


Tierra de Dios

by marcel_lean



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, God's Own Country - Freeform, Hint of Daddy Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Major Illness, Not really slow burn, but there is some build up, hints of lotura but not really, stroke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-16 19:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15443748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcel_lean/pseuds/marcel_lean
Summary: Based on the 2017 film "God's Own Country" on Netflix, Lance is working on his parent's farm in Cuba when he meets and has an affair with Keith, a migrant worker from the states hired as farmhand for a week. While their interactions are at first fraught, they soon teach each other what it means to care for another human being.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many aspects of this work are derivative from the film but there are also parts that are tweaked to fit the characters and definitely parts that are original. To be honest, I don't really know a lot about farming, so I apologize for any inaccuracies. I'm hoping to get this completed before season 7 comes out. Wish me luck, and thanks for taking the time to read!

Lance stared into the watery abyss with a cold numbness. His head felt heavy and his throat was hot and raw. His arms shook from the weight of holding himself up over the porcelain bowl. Suddenly his stomach turned, and he retched again into the toilet, not missing this time. After the roaring in his ears subsided and he spit out the remaining chunks, he let his arms crumble beneath him and he laid his head on top of them. In the distance, he could vaguely discern the familiar thumping and shouting of his mother. She’s up pretty late, he thought. Wait, what time is it? His mind, slow and muddy, struggled to recall the whereabouts of his phone nor did his arms seem bothered enough to lift him up to search. The sounds of his mother grew louder. I should get up, he thought, but only closed his eyes. His mother opened the door. 

“Lance,” she called. “Lance!”

He opened his eyes and blinked. He saw her reflection in the mirror and felt her presence behind him. She began chastising him, ordering him to get up, and to clean up this mess, and did he have any idea what time it was, and he damn near scared her and his dad half to death when he decided to crash through the front door and stomp to the bathroom so late at night. But after a while, his mind began to float away and soon he was flying, swimming through a sea of stars. He reached out and poked the sky above him and his finger made ripples in the firmament like rings in a still pond. He sighed contentedly and let himself fall into the darkness.

 

Keith yawned loudly. He was so tired he was sure that the next time he blinked he wouldn’t wake up till the next morning. But for some reason, he couldn’t sleep. The seat was a bit too hard and the road a bit too rocky. The bus driver seemed fearless despite the fact that he was driving a giant bus on a narrow road on the side of a hill where the lines had faded away in the middle of the night. Keith looked around for the hundredth time at all the people snoozing around him. He felt a small pang of jealousy, then grew amused at himself for it. He pulled out the folded note from his jacket pocket for the hundredth time and stared at the address, name and phone number he already memorized in his head. Shiro’s voice flitted in his ears. Keith, you’re so impulsive. Maybe if you stop springing into action so fast, life will give you the answers you want. Remember, patience yields focus.

But I did wait, Shiro. A whole day. I waited a whole day before buying a plane ticket to Cuba to answer a craigslist ad. 

Keith sighed. “Sorry to disappoint,” he whispered for the hundredth time. He folded up the note and stuffed it back in his jacket pocket. Looking up at the night sky, he imagined flying through space, the stars hot fire balls shooting past him. Their heat warmed his cheek and blazed his path. He smirked and shot forward, undaunted by the darkness ahead.

 

Lance’s mind dragged itself into consciousness before he could open his eyes. He felt the weight of his hangover before the pain could really make itself known. He rolled onto his back, and groaned, rubbing his eyes. The light of the sun pierced his retinas as if as punishment. He dropped his arms back down, only then registering the comforter on and around him. He stared up at his bedroom ceiling. The little glow in the dark stars he stuck there years ago laid flat and still above him. Like the indifferent universe. 

Suddenly, he heard a buzzing and moved to search for the source. He ignored the familiar deep ache in his body that begged him to fall back to sleep because upon checking his phone, he saw the time and scrambled out of bed.

Washed and in clean clothes, he skidded down the stairs and flew into the kitchen. He grabbed a piece of toast from the plate on the table and shoved his feet into his boots, biting down on the bread as he laced them up. 

“Papa was looking for you this morning,” his mother said. She had been sitting at the kitchen table the whole time.

He ignored her and grabbed his keys from the hook.

“He wants you to mind that heifer out there. She’s due anytime now,”

He stomped to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice, drinking straight from the jug.

“You scared us again last night, Lance. If you think I’m going to keep cleaning up your mess like that you’ve got another thing coming,”

He shoved the jug back into the fridge, slamming the door and striding away.

“Hey!” She called, as he walked outside. “Are you listening to me?”

She followed him out to the pickup and closed the door behind him as he plopped himself in the driver’s seat.

“Ay! Listen to me, mijo,” she said tapping on the glass. He kept his eyes trained on the road ahead but rolled down his window. He could feel her gaze on the side of his face and imagined the stern set of her mouth but the earnestness in her eyes. “Lance. Do what he says. Stop making trouble,”

He ground his teeth and clenched hard on the steering wheel but said nothing. She stood there a moment. Then he heard her sigh and step away from the truck. 

“Fetch a good price for that bull. And you’ve gotta fix that stone wall sometime this week,”

He opened his mouth and croaked out the first words he’d said in 18 hours: “Okay, mama.”

She nodded. He put the keys in the ignition and barely waited to completely shift gears before tearing off down the road.

 

The path up to the barn was hilly, and though it was early in the morning, the sun was already beating down on Lance’s arms. Little beads of sweat trickled and fell into his eyes as he jerked the car into park on the side of the fence and hopped out. He trudged up through the gates, and toward the chicken coup. They shrieked as her burst through the door. Stepping over some of the wanderers, he grabbed the feed and shook it out on the ground allowing the hens to run past him out the door and onto the dirt. He followed them and spread more on the dirt, a sea of white feathers running under his feet. He replaced the feed and walked back into the coup checking the nests for eggs. They were all empty and he pursed his lips as he thought he might’ve known why.

He turned and strode out the coup, careful to avoid stepping on any of the hens. He leaned and pushed open the barn doors, using his whole body. The doors wobbled open and thudded softly as they clapped against the walls. He took a deep breath and it seemed for the first time since he woke up his shoulders relaxed. A smile played on his lips as he sauntered over to his favorite girl.

“Hey there, Kali,” He cooed, his voice soft. He reached over the wall of her stall and patted her back. She huffed in response. He trotted around and opened the gate, stepping inside before gently closing it again. “How’s my pretty girl?” He said, patting her back again. He petted her a while before going to the wall where the arm-length rubber gloves were hanging. He rolled up his sleeves and pulled the gloves on, then took the bottle from the shelf nearby and slathered the liquid all over his gloved hand. He walked over and lifted her tail and shoved his arm right in. She mooed in surprise a trotted a bit as he patted her behind with one hand and felt around inside her with the other.

“Shh, shhh! It’s okay, sweet-heart, it’s just me! Just your Lancey-Lance checking up on you,”

She managed to stay still long enough for him to feel what he wanted to feel and then he quickly slipped his arm out. He took off the gloves and threw them in the bin outside the stall before walking back to her. He knelt down and rubbed her swollen belly, careful not to touch the pink utter.

“Won’t be long now, huh Kali,” He said. “A healthy little calf, that’s what we want,” 

He gave her belly one last pat before standing up and walking to the gate. “You promise to wait for Lancey-Lance when he gets back?” He asked before stepping out and closing it shut behind him. She huffed and stomped in return and he smiled. Then he walked out the barn.

After that, he put the chickens back into their coop and set to retrieving the pickup, driving it into the barnyard, attaching the trailer to the back, and hurrying back into the barn. This time he went to the stall where Joaquim stood, and he huffed and stomped as Lance entered. He herded Joaquim into the trailer and shut the doors behind him, the bang echoing throughout the yard. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, he suddenly stopped and turned around. 

Looking out, he could see all the way up the hill behind the barn where the sheep were kept and the beginning of the stone wall, crumbling in various places. He also saw a figure with a walker seemingly stumbling down the path that lead down from it. At the same time he saw the man, the man seemed to have seen him because he stopped. They stared at each other for a time.

Then Lance pursed his lips and turned to continue climbing into the truck.   
If Papa wants to hobble all the way up here by himself just to beat me to the chickens, I’m not going to stop him, he thought as he slammed the door and buckled in. He took one last look at the man on the hill and then shoved the keys into the ignition, switched gears, and drove off.

 

His father gave him the name and contact info of the guy he thought would give him the best price for the bull, but Lance felt he knew of a better option. He watched on as Rolo looked over every inch of Joaquim. Rolo had an air of cool ease and mystery characteristic of most people used to haggling and scamming. But Lance thought he could take him.

“Welp,” Rolo barked finally, rising slowly with an easy smile. “Seems good enough. I guess I could do you a solid and take him off your hands,”

Lance eyed him. “Cool. Name a price,”

Rolo shrugged. “You tell me,”

“What do you have?”

Rolo scoffed. “Come on man, are you joking?”

“Alright, what do you think he’s worth?”

“What, you don’t know?”

“I have an idea,”

“Lay it on me,”

“Please, you first,”

Rolo laughed and shook his head. “Look man, I don’t have all day--”

“Neither do I,” Lance said, stepping closer to him. “So maybe if you tell me what you want, I can see what I can do,”

Rolo’s eyes narrowed the tiniest bit but the smile remained the same. “Hm. Alright. 350. That bull ain’t worth more than 350 Cuban pesos.”

Lance pursed his lips, nodding. Then walked around Rolo and set to leading Joaquim back into the trailer.

“Where you going?” Rolo called.

“I gotta go man. Sorry to waste your time,”

“Hey! Don’t you know how these things work?” Rolo shouted.

Lance shook his head, still leading the bull away. “Guess I don’t.”

“What do you want?”

Lance stopped and turned back. “900,”

Rolo’s jaw actually dropped. “Are you shitting me, man? Did you hear what I said—”

“Totally man,” Lance said stepping back towards Rolo.

“You’re outa your fucking mind—”

“900,”

Rolo set his mouth into a hard line, no longer smiling. “400,”

Lance turned away again.

“450!” Rolo shouted. He worked to keep his cool.

Lance turned to face him. “900,”

“475,”

Lance lifted an eyebrow, a move he practiced in his mirror.

“Alright, 500. But that’s the highest I’ll g—”

“850,” Lance barked. He tried but failed to calm his nerves.

Rolo curled his lip. “550,”

Lance gulped. “800,”

“575. Come on man, that’s really all I—”

“750,”

“I said that’s all I have,”

“Why you lying to me, Ro?”

Rolo strode toward him, stopping inches from Lance’s face. “What’d you say?”

“I see that harley over there, Ro,” Lance said, doing everything he could not to lean away.

“Yeah, I bet you do. But if you think I’m paying anything above what I said for that shitty excuse of a—”

“700,” Lance said, almost in a whisper.

Rolo shook his head, slowly. Lance watched the muscles in his jaw clench and then relax. Finally, Rolo said, “You’re crazy, boy,”

Lance put his hand on a nearby table and leaned his weight on it. “What can I say, Ro? Guess I’m just—” but then the tiny table gave out from under him and it took all his will not to completely fall on his ass. He did however knock all the tools that were on the table clattering onto the floor and even toggled a wrench before it eventually struck the floor too.   
He stood there wide-eyed, his arms stupidly held up in surprise. He looked up at Rolo and laughed nervously. “Heh. Guess I’m just…a little clumsy?”

Rolo stood for a moment, then started barking out hardy laughter. He bent over and put one hand on Lance’s shoulder and the other on his own knees, his shoulders quaking as he gasped for air. 

Lance tried chuckling quietly, too. But then Rolo’s grip on his shoulder hardened and he found himself being pushed back to the far wall. His back hit it hard as Rolo straightened up and wiped tears from his eyes.

“Ah, Lance,” He said. “You are a riot! But that thing? For 700 pesos?”

Lance kept quiet, cursing himself in his head, watching Rolo and the knife at his side.

“But,” Rolo said, finally looking into Lance’s eyes. “Maybe…if there was something else to sweeten the deal,”

Lance gulped. “Y-yeah? I don’t know Ro, what could a cool guy like you want from a guy like me?”

Rolo’s gaze scanned all over Lance’s face and then down his body. He licked his lips. “You always been this pretty?”

Lance shut his mouth into a hard line.

“’Cause, I remember you always being funny like this. But not so…” He growled and let his gaze fall all over Lance’s body again. Lance fought the urge to squirm. “You said if I tell you what I want, you’d see what you could do,”

Lance stared hard into Rolo’s eyes. He mulled it over. Then raised an eyebrow and smirked.

 

Lance stared at the ceiling of the empty cattle trailer as Rolo crouched on his knees in front of him. He knew if he looked down at Rolo’s face he might be taken out of it and go soft. He considered if that meant he wasn’t really queer like he thought. But the tension building in his lower abdomen soon took over his thoughts. He grunted through his orgasm, shooting white stripes down Rolo’s throat. He closed his eyes and heard Rolo stand up. He felt a hand on his cheek and opened his eyes in time to see Rolo’s face inches from his own and him swiftly closing the distance. He could feel Rolo’s breath on his lips. He quickly grabbed the collar of Rolo’s jacket and shoved him back into the opposite wall. He hurriedly knelt and yanked down the zipper of Rolo’s pants. As his hands and mouth worked, his mind went on autopilot, barely registering the gruff moans escaping Rolo’s mouth.

 

Leaning against the pickup, Lance counted the bills in his hands. He listened to the sounds of Rolo’s buddies leading Joaquim into their own cattle trailer. Lost in thought, he jumped at the sudden feeling of a hand on his behind.

Rolo chuckled in his ear as he dragged his hand up Lance’s back side and rested his arms on his shoulders. “That was pretty good, Lancey-Lance. I wonder where you learned to do it like that at,”

Lance chuckled nervously and quickly shoved the stack of bills into his pocket. “Yeah, wouldn’t you like to know,” 

He shrugged Rolo’s arm from around him and stepped up to open the door to the driver’s seat. As he climbed in Rolo stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Hey,” He said. “I’m serious. That was pretty fun. I didn’t know you were like that. Hey, maybe we could get a drink sometime. You like that bar down on Veradero beach?”

“Eh…no,” Lance said, turning and sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Heh, no you don’t like that bar, or no you don’t want to get a drink with me?”

“Um…” He sat for a moment, “no,” then shut the car door and jammed the keys into the ignition. He quickly shifted gears and peeled off, spraying dust as he drove away.

 

As he pulled up to his house, Lance saw his mom jogging toward him from the path up the hill. He put the car in park and rolled down the window. “Hey, ma—”

“What took you so long?” she said. Her brows were knitted together, and her frown was hard. 

Lance’s cheeks burned before he could stop it. “I was just—”

“It’s Kali,” She said. Lance shut his mouth. She moved to the other side of the car and opened the passenger door. “Your father had to go to her. We must go there at once.”

He watched helplessly as she climbed in the seat next to him, shut the door, and buckled herself in. She stared at him for several moments. “Go!” she shouted.

He jumped and shifted the truck back into drive and floored it.

 

Up at the barn, Lance barely remembered to close the truck door behind him as started bounding toward the open barn doors. Inside was Kali tethered to the wall opposite him. Behind her was his father sitting on a bale of hay, his walker beside him. And in front of him lay a little calf, bloody and wet on the ground. It was still.

“What took you so long?” His father rumbled, not turning towards him.

“Papa, I was just—”

“I told you to mind the heifer. Your playing around cost us,”

Lance pressed his lips into a hard line. He searched the ground in front of him. It was covered in hay, dirt, blood, and shit.

“Well, can’t fix it now. Just get on with it,” his father said, holding up a shotgun.

Lance looked up, staring at the firearm. He didn’t move; He was frozen where he stood.

“Ay!” His father yelled. “Get on with it!”

Lance clenched his hands into fists. He glared at the gun and then at the back of his father’s head. Then slowly he stepped forward until he was behind his father’s shoulder. He took the gun from his hand, feeling it’s familiar weight. Finally, he shifted it around and aimed at the calf’s head. He felt the urge to close his eyes but didn’t because he had to see where he was aiming. He took a deep breath…

The bang startled Kali and she mooed loudly. His father immediately turned away, leaning against his walker to stand up, and ambled back toward the doors of the barn. Lance stayed where he stood, glaring at the dead calf in front of him, it’s neck twisted unnaturally, it’s new wound leaking blood to add to what was already on the ground. He felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder and let her take the shotgun from his hand.

“Did you sell the bull?” His father called from the door.

“Yeah,” Lance said, his voice cracking.

“How much?” 

Lance dug into his front pocket and handed the stack to his mother beside him. “700 pesos,”  
“700? That’s not what Raul and I agreed on,”

“I didn’t go to Raul,”

“What? Why?”

“I...couldn’t find him,”

He heard his father scoff.

“Lance,” his mother said. He turned to her as she counted the bills in her hand. “This is only 650 pesos,”

“Of course,” his father growled.

“What?” Lance said, taking the bills from her hand and counting and then recounting the stack. 650.

“See what happens when you don’t do what I say? I guess your guy duped you,”

“No,” Lance breathed.

“Or,” his father continued, “You decided to keep some for yourself,”

Lance whipped around to face his father, but he was still facing the door. “No!”

“Ay! Stop shouting! Next time do what I say, no ands, ifs, or buts. Understand?”

Lance clenched the stack of money, crumpling it in his fist. His mother tugged at a bit sticking out between his fingers. He held for only a moment before letting her slip it out of his hands. She gave him a sad look before putting the stack in her pocket and walking over to his father. She helped him as they walked back to the truck.

 

Back at the house, Lance strode ahead of his parents inside and bounded up the stairs. His mother called up after him, “Remember after dinner you have to pick up the helpmate from the bus stop! Don’t forget Lance! Do you hear me?!”

“Yesssss,” He replied before shutting his bedroom door. He stared at the wood a moment, stewing, before turning to kick off his shoes. He reached into his back pockets, pulling out his phone from one. He checked his messages with one hand while the other sat in the other back pocket. 

A message from his sister Veronica: Can’t ft tonight. Something came up. Sorry! ☹

He pursed his lips and threw his phone on his bed. His hand that was still in his other pocket closed around a folded piece of paper inside. Confused, he took the paper out of his pocket and looked at it. 

A bill. A hundred pesos.

On the same side of his body where Rolo groped him.

Lance stared down at the bill in his hand, his mind and body frozen. Then slowly he walked over to his dresser drawer and pulled out the top drawer. Inside were some ties, an old broken phone charger, two pieces of gum, and a mason jar with some coins and small bills in it. He dropped the hundred inside and closed the drawer. Then he turned to head to the kitchen for dinner.

 

Keith wiped the sweat from his brow with his red handkerchief then stuffed it back into his jacket pocket. Even at night, the heat seemed oppressive. It was hot back in Texas, but this was a whole other beast. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, leaning against the side of the bodega that sat in front of the bus stop. People muled about across the street, chatting lively despite the late hour. He could hear the crash of the ocean a little ways away.

He went over the directions the woman had emailed him again in his head. He twisted around to look down the street one way then the other. He pulled out his phone; it was dead. 

Finally, the rev of an engine echoed down the road and a blue pickup truck rounded the corner towards him. It pulled up in front of him and a young man leaned out the window and yelled, “Are you the one I’m supposed to be picking up? K-Ko Gain?”

“It’s, uh, Ko-gah-ney,” Keith called, pulling his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. Hop in,” the guy called.

Keith went around and hopped in on the passenger’s side. As soon as the car door was shut, he floored it. Keith’s back slammed into his seat and he struggled to buckle himself in. He eyed his driver, wondering momentarily if this was the part where would be murdered. 

“My parents and I live just up this hill,” the guy said. He kept his eyes trained on the road, his expression stormy.

“Cool. Um, I’m Keith by the way,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Name’s Lance,” Lance said, ignoring Keith’s hand. He curled his fingers into a fist and dropped his hand into his lap. He turned in his seat and watched as the landscape rushed beside him.

“Mama said you’re only going to be here for a week. My dad’s a bit out of it after his stroke but we don’t need a lot of help, okay? I can do most of it. I do it all the time anyway,”  
“Okay,” Keith murmured, watching the stars. 

“Hey man, are you listening to me?” Lance said.

Kept his eyes trained on the trees on the side of road. He hoped the guy next to him would catch a hint and let him rest. He heard him scoff beside him but then fall silent. They rode like that the rest of the way.

 

After sometime, they pulled up to a quaint little ranch house on the bottom of a giant hill. An SUV and an RV was parked in the front yard and Lance pulled the truck up next to them. He turned off the car and hopped out, slamming the door without waiting for Keith. Keith hopped out and followed Lance not toward the front door but toward the RV. He yanked open the side door and stepped to the side, motioning Keith to climb in. He did so.

Inside, the RV was small but well furnished, with a bed that was stacked with pillows and a ceiling light that glowed yellow. Keith looked around, letting his duffle bag drop from his shoulder onto the floor.

“There’s a fan in the cabinet up there and a toaster oven down there. But Mama doesn’t like open heat wires in the RV, so it’s best not to use it,” Lance said, leaning against the railing beside the door. 

Keith looked around some more and nodded. He pulled his jacket off and dropped it on the bed. Lance didn’t leave yet.

“You a rocker or something?” Lance blurted. Keith looked at him confused. “Or in an emo band? Your hair is so long…like a mullet,”

Keith raised an eyebrow sitting on the bad to unzip his duffle bag. “No. Guess where I’m from we don’t really care so much about stuff like that,”

“Where you from?”

“Texas,”

“Well, mullet, Mama made dinner and I guess she’ll want you to have some,” Lance said straightening up and turning towards the door.

Keith looked at him. “Don’t, don’t call me that,”

“This door doesn’t work so well, you might have to really slam it to get it closed,” and with that Lance opened the door and stepped out. He closed the door but banged back open and he stuck his head back in. “Told ya. Bet you wish you never left Texas,” then he stepped back out, slamming the door loudly behind him. This time it stuck, and Keith sat there in the silence.

He frowned at the door. He considered staying in the RV in order to steer clear of Lance as much as possible. But his stomach rumbled and the thought of a home cooked meal was too tempting. Plus, he thought he ought to meet the parents since they’re the ones who hired him.

He took his handkerchief out his jacket pocket and wiped his brow again. Then stuffing it into his jeans, he turned off the ceiling light and walked out the RV.

 

Keith devoured the shredded beef with a singular focus. This sort of stew that Mrs. McClain had cooked was absolutely delicious. He looked up and suddenly felt sheepish as Mr. and Mrs. McClain gawked at him while they sat at the table. He swallowed and cleared his throat wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“So,” Mr. McClain began, “How was the fly in?”

Keith shrugged. “it was fine,”

“I don’t like long journeys myself,” Mr. McClain mused. “Especially planes,”

“Since when have you been on a plane?” Mrs. McClain chuckled.

Mr. McClain scoffed. “I mean…the thought of one. It makes me uncomfortable,”

She laughed and he chuckled too. Keith smiled to himself.

“Did Lance show you the trailer?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Keith replied.

“You let us know if you need anything, okay? Extra sheets, pajamas, anything,”

“Yes, Ma’am,”

Just then, Lance came bounding down the stairs. Keith turned around at the noise but quickly turned back to his food. 

Lance stood shirtless in the doorway of the kitchen. He hugged himself and cleared his throat.

“Mama, have you seen my blue polo?”

She frowned. “I’ve already pressed it and put it in your closet. Look at you, walking around here half naked. Where are you going that you need it anyway?”

“Out. To the bar,” Lance said.

“Again?” she said standing to usher him back to his room.

“Ay!” Mr. McClain called, “Don’t get too crazy again tonight! I need you to take me up to the sheep tomorrow,”

“I know,” Lance said.

“Early!”

“I know!” Then he turned and bounded back up the stairs.

Moments later, he came back down and headed towards the door.

“Are you going to invite Keith out with you?” Mrs. McClain said.

Lance stopped, his hand on the door knob, rolling his eyes.

Keith cleared his throat. “No, it’s okay,” he said. “I should be going to bed,”

“Hm. Maybe Lance should take a page from your book,” Mr. McClain said.

Lance turned and glared at him, then glared at Keith. Their eyes met, and they stared each other down for a long time.

Then Lance whipped the door open and slammed it behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has arrived and Lance is really in for it. Also, a surprise visit from some friends.

Lance bent over the pool table aiming for the hardest target. He took a steadying breath, then shot the rod forward, hitting the billiard ball in front of him and knocking the rest of his lot in. People around him cheered and he bowed despite his wobbly legs. Someone patted his back and offered him a beer, which he chugged immediately. It was his fifth.

His opponent growled and stomped over to him, getting in his face. He growled that Lance cheated and wanted best 3 out of 5. Lance shook his head and laughed, slumping against the burly man. He was shoved back and someone caught him but pushed him forward. The burly man swung but Lance ducked and he punched the man behind him. They started yelling and the patrons started focusing more on the two large men shoving each other back and forth. Lance took this opportunity to slump outside for some fresh air.

Lance let himself lean against the side of the building and took out his phone. 

No new messages. Just the one from Veronica still pulled up on his screen.

He tapped away and began scrolling through his different apps, letting his last few drinks kick in. He considered if he had enough money for some more shots.

“Hey Lance!”

A voice called from down the street. Lance lifted his head, his vision starting to swim. But he immediately straightened up at the sight of the owner of the voice.

“Katherine Marie Holt,” he sang, shouldering off the building. She was running up the side walk toward him. “And my main man Hunk Garrett?”

She slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “It’s ‘Pidge’ to you, fucker. You know you’re not allowed to call me by my government!” she shouted into his shirt.

Hunk walked up then and enveloped both of them in a giant bear hug. Lance heard his bones crack and he gasped for air. Hunk finally released them and Lance nearly collapsed.

“Hey buddy! It’s been so long!” Hunk cried.

“Heh. About 8 months to be exact,” Lance said adjusting his clothes. “What are you guys doing here?”

“What, no ‘how are you?’ ‘what’s been going on?’ ‘what’ve you been up to?’” Pidge said.

“We’re here for spring break. We all thought it might be cool to come here and see you,” Hunk explained.

“You all?” Lance said, raising an eyebrow.

“Allura and Matt are here too, plus some friends we met at school,”

Lance’s eyes lit up at the sound of Allura’s name but fell at the sound of the other friends.

Hunk shook his head. “They went inside to try and get us a table. But I gotta tell you, Lance, Allura is very much still into Lotor,”

“Hm,” Lance huffed, pursing his lips.

“Oh come on, we told you that was a lost cause,” Pidge chimed in. “’Sides, our other friends Nyma and Romelle are just dying to meet you,”

“Yeah? You told them about me?”

“Yeah, more like we warned them,” Pidge chortled, nudging his arm.

Lance pursed his lip again. “Yeah, wanna show off your cool native friend but still protect them from his bad influence,”

Pidge and Hunk’s smiles fell. “That is…not what we meant,” she said.

Lance’s mind began to swim. That last drink really started to hit, but he held fast to his sanity. “I’m sorry,” he said rubbing his eyes.

“It’s cool, man,” Hunk replied squeezing his arm. “But seriously though, you should come inside say hi to everyone!”

Panic suddenly set in the pit of Lance’s stomach and he gulped. “I don’t know…”

“What? No, come inside. They’re all waiting!” Pidge insisted.

They kept pleading with him to come back in and Lance continued to hesitate. Then Pidge grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the door. Lance’s heart jumped to his throat and he snatched his hand away.

“Stop! I don’t wanna meet your dumb friends from your dumb college!” He shouted. He stumbled back a bit from the force of yanking his hand away.

Hunk and Pidge stared at him. He fixed his gaze on the sidewalk. A group of friends walked past them into the bar. A car zoomed past. A stray dog howled.

“What is wrong with you?” Pidge said finally.

Lance pressed his lips into a hard line and paced around in place, looking everywhere but at them. “I said I don’t want to meet your dumb friends who’re just gonna judge me and look down on me and—”

“Lance, they are not gonna do that,” Hunk said.

“Yeah? How do you know? What’d they say about your weird friend from Cuba who dropped out before his freshman year even started?” His words began to slur but he was determined to stay firm.

“We…haven’t told them,” Hunk said.

“Are you drunk?” Pidge demanded.

Lance shrugged sloppily. “I dunno. Maybe. Guess I can’t meet your friends now. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you,”

“Okay,” Pidge said, moving towards the door. “If you’re gonna be like this, I’m not gonna bother. I’m going inside, Hunk.” Then she whipped the door open, providing a brief moment for the loud sounds of revelry to escape before letting the door bang shut behind her.

Lance kicked a nearby beer bottle and stumbled around a bit before facing Hunk again. Hunk’s face was twisted with concern.

“What?” Lance barked.

“What happened to you, man?” Hunk said, shaking his head. “I mean you used to be so happy. And carefree. And lord knows you never missed an opportunity to meet some girls,”

Lance scoffed and spat onto the pavement. “You’d know…if you cared to ask,”

“I’ve tried to. Many times. Maybe if you picked up your phone when I call, or answer my emails…”

“I’d answer…if I knew you cared,”

Hunk lifted his arms in frustration. “So, in order to show you I care, I have to contact you, but in order for you to answer I have to show you I care?” He stood there, staring at Lance while Lance avoided eye contact. Then Hunk chuckled. “Well, that’s somewhat of a conundrum, don’t you think?”

Lance pursed his lips. “You learn that word in one of your smarty farty classes? Huh? You guys just sit around fartin’ and bein’ smart and smellin’ each other’s smart farts?”

Hunk curled his lip in disgust but laughed. “Ew, Lance, grow up,” He said, not unkindly.

“Can’t. I only have a high school education,”

“Whose fault is that?” Hunk laughed.

But Lance did not laugh. He stiffened. Suddenly, he turned on his heel and started walking away, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on!” Hunk called. Lance could hear him jogging after him. “Hey, I’m sorry! I’m really sorry. Lance, wait. What are you doing? Lance!” 

But Lance kept going. He crossed the street and a car stopped abruptly and beeped at him as he walked in front of it. 

“Lance!” Hunk yelled again. “What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing! I’m fine,” Lance called back still barreling forward as fast as his drunk legs could carry him.

“No, tell me! Seriously—”

“I said I’m fine. Go back inside. Leave me alone,” he said. He could imagine Hunk on the other side of the street staring at him, his hands in fists at his side. He turned a corner and disappeared into an ally.

Later, Lance found himself at another bar, closer to the beach. It was smaller, seedier, but he was too drunk to care. He spent the rest of his drinking money on shots and drowned himself into a stupor. He was nearly passed out when the bouncer finally kicked him out when the bar was closing.

Somehow, he was able to find a cab and make coherent enough words to get him to his house. As the cab pulled up to the hill, Lance began to fall into darkness. The last thing he heard was the cabbie yelling at him to get out.

 

Keith was laying in his bed in the RV counting the stars he could see from the window above when a light beam flashed across the glass. He sat up and looked out, reaching for the knife on the shelf behind him. 

Outside he saw what looked like a white van stop about 10 feet away from the RV. The driver turned and yelled at whoever was in the back seat. Finally, the man hopped out the car and opened the side door. He grabbed the person under their arms and dragged them out of the car. The person was none other than Lance, sweaty and lanky, his long limbs unfunctional. The driver laid him on his side on the grass, cursed at Lance’s still body and then drove off.

Keith watched for some time, looking for any sign of movement. Finally, just before Keith convinced himself to go outside, he saw Lance slowly curl up into a ball. He became still once again.

Well he’s not dead, Keith thought. He considered still going out there. But he thought it might be awkward and embarrassing for Lance the next morning, so he decided not to. He silently hoped for Lance to actually wake up the next morning and laid back in his bed. He shoved his knife back onto the shelf behind him and began counting the stars once again.

 

Keith was surprised the next morning when as he was eating breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. McClain, Mr. McClain asked him to take him up to the sheep.

“The ewes will be going soon,” He said. “And it’s already later than I wanted to go, so sop up the rest of that and let’s get going,”

He followed Mr. McClain out the door into the wet morning heat. As they passed the RV in the front yard, Keith searched the ground, but Lance was nowhere in sight. Mr. McClain opened the door to the truck and gave his walker to Keith. He took a deep breath and then ungracefully hoisted himself into the passenger seat. Keith stood and watched, ready in case the man needed help. When he was steady in his seat, Keith stowed the walker in the bed and walked around to the driver’s side. He hopped, in turned on the car, and sped off.

“Just go up straight this way. Can’t miss ‘em,” The man said. After that they rode in calm silence.

Despite the heat, Keith marveled at the beauty of the landscape, the trees, the animals, and the wide expanses of grass. The sun had risen only an hour ago, but the countryside was already teeming with life.

Mr. McClain cleared his throat. “Have you seen my son?” he said.

Keith shook his head. “Not since last night,”

The man growled and shifted in his seat. They rode in silence once more.

Keith glanced at Mr. McClain. If Lance were shorter, stockier, and older of course, they could have been twins. He tried to imagine him in his youth. He was probably very handsome. He wondered what he was like before his stroke and how long ago that was.

Keith kept his eyes on the road, working to navigate the shifting gravel.

After driving up hill for some time, Keith saw a wooden fence, then sheep huddled together and what looked like a small stone shack. A little ways away was a dilapidated stone wall. 

“Go ahead and turn in here,” Mr. McClain said, and Keith did.

Once out the truck, Mr. McClain hobbled with his walker to a bail of hay. “You ever birth a lamb before?” He asked Keith.

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

Mr. McClain sat on the hay. “There’s a couple out there that might be ready to go. Go on and mind ‘em for me, son,”

“Yes, sir,” Keith said and walked over into the field. The other side of the fence was nowhere in sight.

He immediately found an ewe that seemed ready. He got to work.

The birth was easy enough. Keith skillfully pulled the lamb from inside it’s mother and set it on the grass. He rubbed its side as it started to bleat and cleared placenta and fluid out of its airways. The mother ambled over and started licking her young. Keith sat back in the grass.

He looked over at Mr. McClain who sat a few yards away on his bail of hay. Mr. McClain nodded at Keith in approval. Keith turned and looked out over the grassy field. The wind softly blew his hair back. He closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He felt content.

 

Keith drove down the hill back to the McClain’s house. The heat of the day was really starting to pour in through his window and he briefly worried about getting a burn. Mr. McClain sat silently on the side of him gazing out the window. There was a tranquility between them that Keith appreciated.

Suddenly a blue flash crossed Keith’s line of sight and Keith braked hard. Lance stood in front of the truck like a deer in headlights. He was wearing the same clothes he wore the night before. He only froze a moment before jogging again towards the house. 

Mr. McClain growled and muttered, “Go, son.” Keith pressed the gas and started driving again. They beat Lance to the house and Keith parked the truck in the grass where it was that morning. As he went to open his door, Mr. McClain put his hand out to stop him. They sat in the car, waiting.

Finally, Mr. McClain cleared his throat. “I…I don’t understand it, son,” he said.

Keith thought for a moment. “Does he…always do this?”

Mr. McClain was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

Keith looked down at his hands. His nails were caked with dirt. “When did he start?”

“I think…when I…got sick,” Mr. McClain said.

They fell into another silence. Keith stared out the window. 

“Um…” He began, “He’s probably still upset…?”

Mr. McClain looked at him. They looked at each other for a time. Then Mr. McClain sat back, seemingly lost in thought. Keith returned his gaze to his hands.

“You’re a good boy, Keith,” Mr. McClain said suddenly, still facing away from him.

Keith looked at him in surprise, then smiled awkwardly and nodded.

Soon, Lance came trotting up to the house. He ducked behind the truck and tried to hustle the front door. Mr. McClain opened his door and slid out the door hobbling around the front of the car. “Lance!” He called.

Lance slowed to a stop, then exaggeratedly turned to face his father. “Papa…”

“Where have you been? I told you I wanted to get to the sheep early,” Mr. McClain demanded, leaning against the hood of the car. Keith hopped out the car and went to get the man’s walker out the bed.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can go take you now,” Lance said walking toward him.

“No, Keith already took me,”

Lance glared at Keith but quickly focused back on his father. “Okay, let me help you,”

Keith set the walker in front of Mr. McClain and he let his weight fall onto the metal bars. 

“Yeah, you say that, but then you waste yourself all night,”

“I only had a couple drinks,” Lance said. He cut Keith off, placing his hands around his father. “I got it,” He growled at Keith. Keith frowned and stepped back. Lance started leading his father into the house. 

Mr. McClain shoved Lance away and said, “You smell like liquor! Go clean yourself—” 

“Papa!” Lance shouted after him.

“I don’t want to hear it Lance. You’re showing yourself to be very untrustworthy,”

Lance scoffed. “Me? Untrustworthy? I go out every so often to let loose and suddenly I’m untrustworthy?”

“Ay! Fix your tone! And you going out at all hours of the night, waking your mother up is what’s holding you back from doing the things you have to do,”

“I do everything you and Mama tell me to do!”

“No, you’re too busy sucking down shots and sleeping in the gutter on the street. You’re focus should be on the home,”

“What so I can’t have any fun at all? It’s not fair that my life had to stop just ‘cause you’re--”

“I’m what?”

Lance backed up and looked at the ground. “Nothing. I’m sorry,”

His father hobbled close to his face. “This is why we decided to hire him, because you obviously can’t do this on your own. Now go inside and clean yourself up. You need to go stay up with the sheep and fix that damn wall. This conversation is over,” and with that, he hobbled into the house, leaving Lance where he stood.

When the door slammed behind Mr. McClain, Lance whipped his head around to glare at Keith. Keith stared back holding his breath. Lance’s face was livid, but his eyes held a certain amount of anguish. Finally, Lance turned and stomped inside the house, letting the door slam behind him. Keith was left standing in the grass alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins

“You have everything, mijo?” Lance’s mother asked again. Lance knelt on the kitchen floor stuffing a duffle bag with two sleeping bags and some blankets.

“Yes, Mama,” he replied.

She set about pulling out several cans of beans, several packets of rice, a Tupperware bowl of diced tomatoes and corn, and a small metal pot and putting them into a satchel. 

Lance zipped up his duffle bag and stood up, hoisting it onto his shoulder. He took the satchel from his mother, kissed her cheek and turned to walk out the door. As he walked to the pickup, she called after him, “Be nice to Keith! You’re partners now,”

“Yeah, alright,” he replied, throwing his bag in the back. He walked to the RV and banged on the side of it then went back and climbed into the driver’s seat of the pickup. He started it up and started laying on the horn.

“Come on, Mullet! You coming or what?” He beeped some more as Keith stepped out of the RV with his own duffle bag, glaring at Lance. He continued to beep until Keith opened the passenger’s door. As soon as Keith was in his seat, Lance floored it and Keith struggled to close the door. Dirt flew up behind them as Lance drove out onto the road.

Lance tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the music blaring through the speakers. Keith looked at Lance out the corner of his eye, then worked to situate his duffle bag on his lap.

“Can you turn that shit off? Please?” He shouted over the music.

“What? You don’t like Selena? Agh, she’s my queen!” Lance said, turning the music up higher.

Keith rolled his eyes and turned away in his seat.

“You ready to get down and dirty, Mullet? We’ve really got our work cut out for us,”

“Oh, I’m ready,” Keith replied, “Question is, are you ready? Hangovers are pretty rough I hear,”

Lance frowned. “Yeah? Maybe you should let me worry about that,”

“Just saying. Wouldn’t wanna have to do your work for you,”

“You—” Lance began but shut his mouth. He glared at the road. 

Keith shook his head. Then suddenly the truck jerked to a stop. Keith launched forward, almost hitting his head on the dashboard, his duffle bag his only buffer. The truck zoomed back to speed and Keith turned to glare at Lance.

“Oh wow, Mullet, you should really buckle up. Roads are pretty bad,” Lance sang.

Keith blew his bangs out his face and growled. “Maybe if this music was off you could focus,” he said, shutting off the radio.

“Hey!” Lance shouted, turning it back on. Keith immediately shut it off again. Lance turned it on and covered the button with his hand. “Hey! Don’t touch shit in my car, Mullet!”  
“Stop calling me that!” Keith yelled, grabbing Lance’s wrist.

Lance struggled to wrestle his wrist away and Keith struggled to keep his death grip. Suddenly a horn blared in front of them. They had veered into the other lane and a car was barreling toward them.

“Watch the road!” Keith yelled, and Lance snatched his hand away, grabbing the wheel and swerving back into the right lane.

They sat in silence for a while, allowing their breaths to return to normal. Later, Lance turned the radio back on but at a lower volume. Keith rolled his eyes and turned away, focusing on the rolling hills out his window.

 

They pulled up to the sheep enclosure and Lance pulled the pickup beside the stone shack. He shut the pickup off and they both hopped out the car. Lance led the way into the shed, kicking the door open and dropping his bag onto the ground covered with hay. Keith followed suit.

Lance pulled out his phone and tapped on it before cursing in frustration.

“There’s no fucking service up here,” he muttered, stuffing it back into his pocket. He knelt down and unzipped his duffle bag, grabbing some work gloves. He threw a pair at Keith’s feet and started walking out the shed. “No time to rest. Let’s just get to work,”

Keith picked up the gloves and slowly slipped them on. “Let’s go, Mullet,” Lance called back. Keith pressed his mouth into a hard line and followed Lance out the door.

They spent the day tending to the sheep and fixing the wall.

Keith birthed another lamb. This one was smaller and did not come out bleating. Keith laid it on the grass beside the mother and rubbed its side vigorously. Lance was a little ways away, tending to another sheep. He looked at Keith and shook his head. “He’s gonna be a runt,” He said.

Keith continued to work on the little lamb, clearing its airways of fluid and even blowing air straight into its mouth. He lifted it up by its legs and gently swung it upside down back and forth. He laid it back on the grass and continued rubbing its side. Finally after continuously working on it, the little lamb started to bleat. Keith pulled the lamb into his arms and continued to pet it and hold it close.

He looked up at Lance expecting a snarky comment, but Lance only looked on saying nothing. Then he turned and went back to tending to his own sheep.

Later they took to the wall, gathering stones that were scattered around it. Lance pulled out a small pick and started hacking away at a stone in his hands. Keith stacked some larger ones in the areas where the gaping holes were.

They worked and worked for hours on end, the hot sun beating down on them. Lance had eventually stripped down to just his pants, wrapping his shirt like a turban around his head. Keith took his shirt of too, but kept the wifebeater he had on underneath. He tied his flannel around his waist. 

Finally the sun began to set. Lance dropped the rock that was in his hand and put his hands on his hips. He nodded in Keith’s direction. “Let’s be done for the day,” He said.  
Keith nodded, setting down his own rock. They walked back to the shed.

Lance started setting up a place for a fire. He put broken pieces of wood he found around the shed into a pile and encircled it with stones from around the wall. He tried rubbing some sticks together over the wood, squatting over it for a long time. Keith filled his cantina with water from the spout outside and returned to Lance still working on the fire.

He stood watching Lance for a while, sipping his water. Finally, he set the cantina down and went through his duffle bag. He pulled out some pieces of flint and knelt next to Lance. He nudged his hands away and said, “Here, let me,”  
Lance nudged him back. “I’ve got it,” he said.

Keith pushed his hands away once more. “Will you just let me help?”

Lance glared at him but sat back. Keith struck his flint a couple times until sparks flew and smoke started to float up from the wood. He bent over and blew gently on the wood, coaxing more smoke and a small flame to form. He adjusted one of the pieces of wood and the fire caught on the rest of the pile. He sat back and looked at Lance. Lance sat quiet, brooding at the fire. Then he rose and walked away.

They ate separately, Keith a cup of noodles he packed with him and Lance the meal his mother packed for him. They ate in silence, only the sounds of chewing and the crack of the fire filling the air. 

Later they went to bed, Lance throwing Keith the extra sleeping bag and blanket and promptly getting into his and turning away from him. Keith nestled into the sleeping bag and laid on his back. He stared at the ceiling waiting for sleep to take him. It almost didn’t.

 

The next morning they rose early and got straight to work again, tending to the sheep and fixing up the wall. Keith milked the mother ewe and fed the runt sheep with a bottle. Lance rolled his eyes and fed the other sheep with the bag of feed.

While working on the wall, Lance leaned against it, picking at a rock in his hand. Keith worked nearby, stacking rocks up at the base. 

“You said you’re from Texas?” Lance suddenly blurted.

Keith sighed. “Yup, that’s what I said,”

“So what are you doing all the way out here? Couldn’t find work closer to home?”

“Something like that,”

“Hm.” Lance said. “I almost went to school in the States. Not Texas though, Arizona. You ever think about going to school?”

“Not really,” he replied.

“Why not?”

“School…really isn’t for me,”

“How do you know? I don’t mean regular school either, I mean college,”

“I know,” Keith said, glancing up at Lance.

“So how do you know if college isn’t for you? Have you tried it?”

Keith walked away to hall over a stone from a few feet away. “Sure,”

“You did? What happened? You drop out?”

Keith said nothing and continued gathering stones to stack on the wall.

“Or, did you get kicked out?” Lance asked.

Keith said nothing.

Lance gasped. “Is that what you’re running away from?”

Keith growled but continued to work.

“Of course! That’s why you’re so far from home! You’re running away from school!”

Keith stopped and flopped his arms down in frustration. “I’m not running away from anything! Look, can we just not talk about this?”

Lance shrugged. “I’m just trying to make small talk. Make the work go faster,”

“We were working fine in silence,” Keith said, bending down to work on the base of the wall again. “And where are your gloves?”

Lance shrugged again. “Can’t find them,”

“You literally just had them yesterday,”

Lance shrugged once more. 

Keith shook his head and continued to work. “Well, you better be careful,”

“Don’t tell me to—AH!” Lance yelped. He had missed the rock and hit the pick right into his hand. He dropped the rock and held his wounded hand in the other, hissing in pain. Keith dropped the rock he had and reached out to take Lance’s hand. Lance snatched it away.

Keith pursed his lips. “Let me see it,”

Lance hesitated but reluctantly obliged. Keith took his hand in his and examined his palm. His hands were cool against Lance’s warm skin, and his thick fingers smeared Lance’s blood away from the cut.

Lance’s heartbeat picked up at the feeling of Keith’s delicate touch. He gulped. “You’re going to get it infected,”

“I’m not,” Keith murmured.

“You gonna laugh at me?”

“No, I won’t,” Keith said, then he glanced up at Lance. “’Sides, you’re not that funny,”

Lance rolled his eyes.

Keith continued examining the cut. “It’s pretty shallow. Just a graze really. You’ll be fine, but lets clean it up so it doesn’t actually get infected,” Keith dropped his hand and started walking towards the shed. Lance cradled his hand to his chest and followed. 

Inside, Keith sat down and rummaged through his duffle bag pulling out a small, brown pack. He took a roll of gauze and an alcohol wipe from the pack and set it back into the bag. He stood up and walked back to Lance who was hanging back by the doorway.

He took Lance’s hand once more and held the gauze under his arm. He ripped open the wet wipe with his teeth, pulling it out with one hand and started dabbing and wiping at Lance’s cut. Lance hissed in pain but let him do it.

When the gash was clean enough, he shoved the wet wipe in his pocket and pulled the roll of gauze from under his arm. He started wrapping Lance’s hand in it. 

They stood there in silence while Keith worked. Lance noticed the slight tension in his brow from the concentration. His long eyelashes hid his eyes and his dark hair brushed gently against his face.

Lance gulped.

Finally, Keith tucked the end in and held Lance’s hand up, examining his work. “Sorry I don’t have any bandages, but I didn’t want you out there in the dirt and all with an open wound,”

Lance shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Thanks,” He said.

Keith was still holding his hand. Their eyes met for a moment.

Lance pulled his hand away and scratched the back of his head. “Well…” he said, “We should probably get back to work,” and walked back out to the field. Keith stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him walk away. Then he followed.

 

The day turned into night and the boys headed back into the shed. Lance pulled his shirt over his head and slipped on his sleeping shirt. He stripped down into his boxers and rolled out his sleeping bag. Keith fixed up the fire, kneeling over it and coaxing it to life. He glanced up at Lance while he changed, looking away when he turned toward him. 

Keith slipped off his flannel and his pants too, sitting in his shorts and his wifebeater.

Lance fished the beans, rice, and salsa out of his bag. He put the mixture in the small pot his mom gave him and heat the pot next to the fire. Keith watched this, then grabbed his cantina filled with water and set it next to the fire as well. He pulled a cup of ramen and a fork out of his bag and sat with it in his lap. Lance looked over at him.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?” Lance said.

Keith looked at him and shrugged.

Lance pursed his lips and looked back into the fire. They sat in silence watching their food, lost in their own thoughts. The faint noises of the animals outside came softly through the window. The moon shone bright in the sky, full and white.

Soon steam started rising from Keith’s cantina and he carefully pulled it away from the fire. He set it down next to him and ripped the plastic covering off his cup of ramen. Then he poured the hot water into the oodles and stirred them with his fork. Satisfied, he began shoveling them into his mouth.

Lance gawked at him as he did this. He took his own food from the fire and began stirring. “Seriously dude, is that really all you’re going to eat?”

Keith shrugged again chewing a mouthful of ramen.

“There’s not even any seasoning in it!” He said, then thought for a moment. He sighed. “You want some of this?”

He held the pot out to Keith.

Keith eyed him and swallowed. “Nah, that’s your food.”

“Come on, I insist,” Lance said, shaking the pot.

Keith shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Really,”

“Just a taste! It’s really good…”

“I said I’m fine! ‘Sides, what’re you gonna do, feed it to me?”

Lance’s face burned red hot. “No!” he shouted, voice cracking. “Why would I do that?”

“Then how are you even gonna share that with me?” Keith replied.

Lance sighed in relief. “Well,” he said, then took Keith’s cup of noodles out his hands and began tipping it toward the ground.

“Hey!” Keith shouted, grabbing Lance’s wrist. “Don’t dump out my ramen!”

“Okay!” Lance groaned. “Here. I’ll just…scoop some in here then,” and scooped some of his beans and corn into the noodles. He offered the cup back to Keith and he snatched it away. Lance made a mocking face toward him and Keith made one back.

Lance pursed his lips and went to his food again, stirring what was left in the pot and shoveling a scoop into his mouth.

Keith looked down at the noodles, now covered in beans, corn, tomatoes, and rice. He mixed them up a bit, then took a small bite. His face softened and he took another, heftier bite.

Lance smiled around his mouthful. “It’s good right?”

Keith swallowed. “Yeah. Thanks,”

Lance smirked and continued eating his food.

They fell into an easy silence again, both contentedly eating their dinner. The fire snapped and crackled in front of them and a sheep bleated in the distance. The wind blew gently over the hill and crickets sang into the night.

Keith looked over at Lance. His long fingers curled gracefully around his spoon and his boxers hiked up over tanned, lightly muscled thighs. He barely had any hair on his legs and Keith wondered briefly if his skin was as soft as it looked. He swallowed hard.

“I’m not running away,” Keith blurted.

Lance stopped munching and looked at him. Keith stuck his fork into his noodles a couple times, glaring into them.

When it was obvious he wasn’t going to continue without provocation, Lance sighed. “What are you talking about?”

“Earlier, you asked me if I was running away from something and if that something was dropping out of school,” Keith said, eyes still locked on his noodles. “I’m not running away,”

“Look dude, you don’t have to explain anything to me—”

“I’m more so running towards something,” Keith continued. “Or at least trying to find something,”

Lance looked at him for a moment. “What are you trying to find?”

Keith looked up briefly, staring at nothing. He paused dunking his fork into his noodles. He sat there silent. Lance searched his eyes.

After a long time and no response from Keith, Lance pursed his lips and went back to his food. “Whatever,” he growled.

Then Keith mumbled something.

“What?” Lance said, visibly exasperated.

Keith finally looked at Lance in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. “My. Family.”

They stared at each other for a long time. The eye contact was almost too intense for Lance. Finally, Keith went back to eating his bean and noodle mixture. Lance felt he knew better than to press for more answers. He also went back to eating and they finished their meal in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to heat up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some spicy parts in this chapter, so proceed with caution.

The next morning Keith and Lance continued their work tending the sheep and fixing the wall. That day was particularly hot and Keith continuously wiped sweat from his brow. He had already tied his flannel around his waist and could feel the beginnings of a sunburn on his cheeks. 

“Aren’t you hot?” Lance called as they worked on the stone wall.

Keith set down the rock in his hand and looked at him. “Do I look hot?”

Lance’s face fell and Keith thought perhaps that was a poor choice of words.

He went back to moving the stones, but Lance spoke up again. “Hey, let me show you what you can do with your shirt,”

Keith stopped and stared at him. Now that was a weird choice of words. 

But Lance looked insistent. “Come on. My sister taught me how to do this,” he said, motioning to his own shirt wrapped in a turban around his head. “It kinda protects your face, too,”

Keith hesitated. “Okay,” he said, then slowly reached down and pulled his sweaty shirt over his head. Lance kept his eyes on Keith’s face.

“Cool,” he said, taking Keith’s shirt, “but you have to come closer so I can do this,”

Keith nodded and climbed over the stone wall, careful not to dislodge any of their hard work. Lance draped out the shirt, shaking it out a bit and stepped in closer to Keith once he was beside him.

Keith stood there, allowing Lance to wrap his semi-wet shirt around his head and even a little over his face, right over the forming burn. He was standing so close to Lance, he felt the need to hold his breath, and he could see the bright blue of Lance’s eyes. Lance had to stand slightly on his tippy toes as he worked the garment around Keith’s head. His brows knitted together in concentration.

When he was finished, he put his hands on his hips and examined his work. He didn’t step back.

“There. Now we’re just two shirtless boys on a hill with some sheep,” he said.

Keith blinked slowly at him. Lance’s eyes widened as he realized what he said. Then Keith smiled a bit, breathing a small laugh through his nose. Lance sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Well, we should probably get back to it,” he said, and they both turned back to the wall.

 

Keith and Lance stared down at the still body beneath them for a long time. The lamb’s tongue stuck out of it’s mouth and there were splatters of blood on its fur. It laid with its legs splayed out under him and its head laying to the side.

Lance grimaced and groaned in disgust. 

Then Keith reached over the side of the fence and picked up the dead lamb by its hind legs and pulled it out of the pen. He laid it on the grass and knelt down beside it.

“Hey, can you bring me that one over there?” He said to Lance.

“What, you mean the runt?” Lance replied, gesturing toward the little lamb tied to the outside of fence a little ways away.

“Yeah, bring him to me,” he said, and pulled a small knife out his back pocket.

Lance gasped but turned to fetch the lamb anyway. He quickly untied the rope that was around the fence and led the lamb over to Keith. His jaw dropped as he watched Keith roll the dead lamb onto its back and carefully cut a line down its stomach.

“What are you doing?” Lance shrieked, his voice cracking.

“Just shut up and trust me,” Keith said. Lance knelt down beside him and watched in horror as Keith pulled the skin back from the lamb’s body. He took one of the hind legs and snapped the bone, grunting with the effort, and then used his knife to saw through the skin and sinew between the break. He did the same to the other back leg and pulled the upper thighs of the animal out of the skin.

Lance grimaced. “It looks like a sock,” he groaned.

“Relax,” Keith said.

“Are you some kind of masochist?”

“Shhh,” Keith said. He finished removing the skin from body and then motioned for Lance to bring the runt to him. He stood on his knees and set the runt between his thighs. 

“Untie his rope for me,” Keith said.

Lance shuffled up next to Keith and untied the rope from around the neck of the runt. It bleated softly as the rope slipped off. Lance tossed it to the side.

Then Keith took the skin from the dead lamb and wrapped it around the runt, taking its legs and pushing them through the holes of where the dead lamb’s legs used to be. Soon, the little lamb looked as if wearing a fur coat.

Keith picked up the lamb and stood up, walking over to the sheep pen. He leaned over and put lamb next to its mother. “Now his mama won’t reject him because he’ll smell like her baby,”

Sure enough, the ewe sniffed the little lamb and licked its face, allowing it to latch on to her and drink her milk.

Lance walked over and stood next to Keith. They watched as the lamb took milk from his new mother.

“I’m suddenly vegan,” Lance muttered.

Keith guffawed loudly and turned to smile at Lance. Lance taken aback by this only smirked. They chuckled to each other and continued watching the sheep.

 

Later that night, they sat down for dinner. Lance was already stirring his steaming pot of beans and whatnot when Keith finally sat down beside the fire. Before he could reach for a cup of noodles, Lance whistled to get his attention and offered him an extra fork. Keith hesitated but turned to sit facing him and took the fork. They sat cross legged facing each other as Lanced up the pot and they both ate from it. 

“What do you think we should do with that dead lamb?” Lance said between mouthfuls. “I guess we can’t eat it since it wasn’t fresh when we found it,”

“I thought you were vegan,” Keith said, a smile playing on his lips.

“I thought you said I wasn’t funny,” Lance shot back.

Keith paused and looked at him, his hooded eyes a deep, stormy gray in the warm glow of the fire. “You’re not,” he said, failing to repress a smile.

Lance bit his bottom lip and fought to maintain eye contact. “Okay,” he said. 

They looked at each other for a moment longer before returning to their food in silence.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Lance asked after some time. “With the lamb and everything?”

Keith shrugged. “My…brother showed me. Well, he’s not really my brother…”

Lance nodded, then thought for a moment, considering his next question. “Is he…the ‘family’ you’re searching for?”

Keith shook his head. “Nah, he’s back in Texas. He actually tried to convince me not to take this job. He said it was impulsive,”

“Oh,” Lance said, nodding. “Who are you looking for, then?” 

Keith paused, staring off into nothing. He seemed lost in thought. Then right as Lance began to think he may have asked too much, Keith set his fork down into the pot and reached behind him.

“I’m looking…for whoever gave me this,” he said, and pulled out the knife he had earlier. It was a small dagger with a beautifully ornate handle. It shone in the firelight, giving no indication of the dismembering it had done earlier.

“Wow,” Lance breathed. He stared at the knife, beautifully held in Keith’s careful hands. Lance caught Keith’s eye for a moment and inhaled slightly. Then Keith reached back and put the knife back where it was. He kept his eyes on Lance as he took up the fork in his hands again and began eating.

Lance gulped, his heart hammering in his chest. He started eating again too, hoping that giving his mind something to focus on would distract him from Keith’s intense gaze.

“Is this weird?” he squeaked after a while. He peaked up at Keith whose expression was one of confusion. “This, I mean,” he said, motioning between them with his fork. 

Keith’s face softened and so was his voice. “No,” he murmured, “Is it?”

They gazed at each other for a long time. Lance felt drawn to Keith, like being sucked into the vortex of his dark eyes. Their knees were almost touching, and Lance swore he felt the hair on his legs reaching out towards Keith.

Keith searched Lance’s eyes, swimming in their deep blue depths. He felt a familiar fire glow in his core and he wondered if Lance could feel the heat that must be emanating from him. He wished Lance would lean just a little closer…go a little further…

Lance felt himself pitching forward the way one does when looking over a giant cliff. His blood rang in his ears and his fork lay still and forgotten in his hands.

Keith briefly considered just going for it when the light in Lance’s eyes shifted.

Lance felt himself falling into Keith and panicked at the last second. He blinked rapidly and looked down. He shoved one last forkful into his mouth and then dropped his fork into the pot. He scrambled to stand up and headed for his sleeping bag.

“You can have the rest,” he muttered as dropped and slipped himself into it. He buried himself in the blanket and turned away from Keith, staring into the darkness formed by his shadow.

Keith sat stunned, as if waking from a dream. He looked down at Lance’s abandoned fork in the pot. He sighed feeling deflated. Usually when something like that happened—or didn’t happen—he’d feel angry. But for some reason this time he only felt sadness.

He stared into the fire not eating anything else. When he thought Lance might be sleep, he took the pot and put the lid back on it. He wiped the food from both forks onto his shorts and stowed everything into Lance’s bag and zipped it up. He adjusted the fire before slipping into his own sleeping bag. He closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep.

 

The next morning, Lance woke up and Keith was gone. Usually he woke up with Keith already awake anyway, but he always still laying in his sleeping bag. Lance wiggled out of the sleeping bag and stood up, feeling heavy. He stumbled out of the shed and looked out across the field. The sheep bleated just beyond the fence but Keith was no where in sight. He turned and headed toward the back of the shed, thinking Keith was already working on the wall.

As he came upon the back of the shed he spotted Keith but quickly back tracked.

Keith stood there near the water pump with a bucket of water. His clothes were thrown in a heap nearby. His wet skin glistened in the early morning sun as he wiped a rag over his bare shoulders. He was naked.

Lance peaked out from behind the corner of the shed. He covered his mouth, his mouth stunned into silence. He tried to reason how to proceed, but his panicky mind was easily distracted by the spectacle in front of him. 

Suddenly a sheep bleated in the distance and Keith whipped his head around. Their eyes met and Lance quickly ducked back behind the wall.

“Hey!” he heard Keith call. He dropped into a squat, combing his fingers through his hair. His mind was in full panic mode.

Keith trotted up and stood in front of him. “What are you—”

“Nothing, mullet!” he yelled, standing up. He barely registered that Keith was thankfully now in shorts. “Just hurry your ass up so we can—"

“Hey,” Keith barked, and planted his arm on the wall next to Lance’s body, blocking his exit. Lance looked at him in surprise, staring into his eyes. Keith took a step forward until their faces were inches apart. “Don’t. Call me that,” he growled.

Lance gulped and nodded. Tiny water droplets dripped from Keith’s arm and steam softly rose from his body. His shorts hung low on his hips and Lance could see the small trail of hair that began at his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband. Keith’s shoulders were narrower than Lance’s but the lean muscle that bulged slightly all over his body made Lance’s breath hitch in his throat. Keith stood over him for another moment before dropping his hand and stepping back. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Lance pressed his lips into a hard line and looked everywhere but Keith. “I wasn’t…I was just…I was just looking for you,”

Keith narrowed his eyes.

“Ugh,” Lance groaned. “Sorry,”

Keith rolled his eyes. He looked at Lance one last time, then walked back to retrieve his clothes.

Enjoy the show? He wanted to say, but didn’t. Lance looked really flustered.

Lance scurried back into the shed hurrying to change his clothes.

 

The rest of the day they worked in silence. Lance didn’t make a peep and barely looked Keith in the eye. It was like they were back to square one.

 

Lance didn’t even sit to eat dinner but changed his clothes and immediately slipped into his sleeping bag. He laid down, facing the wall, away from Keith.

Keith pursed his lips and dug in his bag for a cup of ramen. Shouldn’t he be the one to be more embarrassed? He was the one that was naked. But he decided not to press Lance and begrudgingly fixed up his noodles. He ate by himself, glaring into the cup, listening to the crack of the fire and the howl of the wind.

When he was finished, he put the empty cup back into his bag and slipped into his own sleeping bag. He decided to indulge himself a little and laid down facing Lance’s still form. His broad shoulders rose and fell at an even tempo and he wondered how Lance could get himself to sleep so quickly. He always had a hard time falling asleep since he was a young boy. The skin on his back grew taught over lean muscle and he wondered again if his skin was really soft. He briefly considered reaching out and touching it, but thought better of it. Lance was pretty spooked earlier. Perhaps he was reading his signals wrong. 

He sighed to himself. Lance was both complicated and simple to him. He wondered how he had gotten him to open up as much as he had. He wasn’t planning on telling anyone about his true reasons for coming here, especially not his employers’ son. He supposed Lance was just that easy to talk to.

He smiled to himself, but decided to indulge himself no longer. He turned in his sleeping bag away from Lance and shut his eyes. He waited for sleep to take him.

 

Keith woke up to the sounds of moaning. He groggily rolled over and looked over at Lance. He was laying on his back and his eyes were screwed shut, but his brows were knitted together and hands were in fists beside his head. His chest jerked and he moaned again.

Keith’s eyes widened and he carefully slipped out of his sleeping bag and crawled over to Lance. He knelt beside him, leaning over his face. A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead and he shifted his body again.

“Hey, Lance,” he whispered, gently placing a hand on his chest and shaking him. He only groaned again.

He thought maybe he was too hot and went to unzip his sleeping bag. He threw back to cover, but Lance just jerked again in his sleep. He groaned louder and clenched his fist.  
“Lance,” Keith said again, leaning over him and shaking his shoulder. Lance suddenly began thrashing and whimpering and Keith worked to hold him down. He cupped his face. “Lance!” he yelled.

Lance finally stopped and his eyes popped open. He looked around wildly, panting, putting his hands around Keith’s as they held his face.

“Shhh, shhh,” Keith hushed. “It was just a dream, you’re okay,”

Lance trained his gaze on Keith but the look in his eyes was still wild. He pressed his lips into a hard line.

“Lance?” Keith whispered.

Suddenly Lance lunged forward and flipped Keith onto his back. He straddled him and pinned his arms above his head, staring down into his eyes.

“Lance? What are you doing—” he breathed. He glanced down Lance’s body and immediately shut his mouth. A large lump bulged from Lance’s crotch. He looked up at Lance and there was a glint in his eye. “Lance?” he whispered, voice softer.

“Keith,” Lance replied. 

They sat in silence.

Then, to Keith’s surprise, Lance yanked his shirt off and over his head. 

Oh, so this is happening, Keith thought. He sat up and pulled his own shirt over his head and went to wrap his arms around Lance. But Lance threw his shirt to the side and pushed Keith back down flat. He crawled down Keith’s frame and positioned himself over his crotch.

Lance looked up into Keith’s eyes briefly. “Can I?” he whispered, tugging on the waistband of his shorts. “Please?” Keith nodded and lifted his hips to help Lance pull his shorts down.

Keith tried to caress Lance’s face but Lance pushed his arm away and held it down. He took Keith’s shaft in his other hand and quickly plunged it into his mouth.

Keith gasped from the sudden heat on his dick, and it took his entire will to keep from coming then and there.

Lance ducked his head up and down fast, his hand following his mouth in a twisting motion at the base of his length.

Keith hardened in Lance’s mouth and his muscles clenched in his abdomen. His breaths came out shaky and he was almost dizzy from the speed with which Lance could take him to the edge.

Seconds later he grunted as he came into the back of Lance’s throat. His eyes rolled back and then shut as he let the throbbing subside. His body went limp and his arms lay flat beside him.

Lance popped his mouth off of Keith and he winced. Lance rolled off him and sat on his sleeping bag, his legs splayed out in front of him. They sat catching their breath, the fire popping a little ways away.

Keith reached out to touch Lance’s leg but he pushed his hand away. “I’m tired,” he breathed, then crawled into his sleeping bag and zipped it up around him. Once again, he laid facing away from Keith and soon his shoulders rose and fell at a steady rhythm. 

Keith still laid there watching Lance’s back. He was stunned, still struggling to breath normally. But after some time, he pulled his shorts up and grabbed his shirt that lay crumpled on the ground beside him. He crawled into his own sleeping bag and lay facing Lance’s back. This time he blinked and immediately slipped into oblivion.

 

Lance came into consciousness slowly. The sunlight poured in through the window and warmed his face. He rolled over onto his back and scratched the back his head. 

Suddenly, the memories or last night came rushing back in a torrent and his cheeks burned. He looked over at Keith who was surprisingly sound asleep. He snored quietly beside him.

Lance stared at his face, his expression peaceful, his cheek squished against his arm. Images flooded his mind of Keith’s shallow breaths and his tensing muscles and the saltiness of his cum…

And his dream…

Lance hadn’t had a dream like that since high school. His dick had been buried deep into Keith’s ass, which he’d gotten a good look at while he was bathing. He was thrusting into him, hard and fast. But when Keith moaned it sounded like a sheep bleat. Then suddenly they were surrounded by sheep and they were closing in on him. But Lance was so desperate to finish, he kept thrusting and thrusting and…

Then he awoke to Keith’s face so close to his. And then he pounced.

Lance shuddered, amazed at himself. This wasn’t the first time he’s felt this way about a man, but not to this extent.

He jumped as Keith shifted in his sleep groaning.

He’s so beautiful, Lance marveled. Then scoffed.

He quickly pulled himself out of his sleeping bag and started getting dressed. As he moved about the shed, Keith finally woke up. He rubbed his eyes and stared up at Lance as he dressed himself.

“Hey, sleeping beauty finally wakes up. Let’s go, we don’t have a lot left to do, mu—” he stopped himself.

Keith propped himself up on his elbows, allowing the cover to slide down his torso. His chest glinted with a thin layer of sweat. His hair was tousled and his long lashes sloped over half open eyes.

Lance gulped. “Keith,” he finished, then turned and walked out the shed.

 

They continued to work throughout the day. Lance caught Keith staring at him on several occasions. Sometimes he stared back, but most of the time he gruffly went back to his own work. 

At the pace they were going, they could be finished by nightfall. Then they could spend one more night there and then head back the next morning. Lance let his mind wander as he fit rocks he had picked into smaller pieces into the rock wall. 

He thought about the night before and his feelings toward Keith. He reasoned that he liked having sex with boys but dating girls. That was a thing, right?

He looked up and found Keith staring at him again. He glared back. He continued picking rocks into smaller pieces and fitting them into the wall. Finally, he stopped.

“What?” he yelled.

Keith continued to stare. They stared at each other for a long time.

“What?” he repeated, with even more spite. 

Keith slowly shook his head. Then a small smile grew on his lips and he raised an eyebrow. He chuckled a little.

Lance pursed his lips and put his hands on his hips.

Finally, Keith said, “How often do your parents hire extra farmhands to help you out?”

Lance sneered. “Never,”

Keith blinked in surprised amusement, then shrugged. Lance went back to the rocks.

After some time, Keith stopped his own rock work and leaned against the wall, looking out over the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, and the pinks and reds and violets spread out in ribbons across the sky. 

He sighed. “It’s really beautiful out here,” he said, his voice soft.

Lance looked up at him.

“I’d never been in a place more beautiful in my entire life.” Then he turned back to Lance. “But I guess it can get kind of lonely, huh,”

Lance sighed and looked over the wilderness that spread out beyond the wall and below the hill. It was beautiful. Then he looked at Keith who was framed against it. His dark hair blew softly in the breeze. His expression, usually stony, was open and his eyes were kind. He’s beautiful.

“Yeah,” Lance replied softly. He looked down at the pick and rock in his hands then went back to picking the rock. Keith went back to his work too, picking his own rock into smaller and smaller pieces.

 

They worked well into the night, trying to finish the wall so they could leave the next day. Lance felt both tired and wired, choosing to skip dinner again in favor of a drink of water. He slipped into his sleeping bag before Keith came back in from checking on the sheep. He listened as Keith’s footsteps creaked against the wood floorboards. He shucked off his shoes and shimmied out his clothes. Finally, in his t-shirt and shorts, Keith also slipped into his sleeping bag and faced Lance’s back.

Keith stared at Lance, his body only illuminated by the soft glow of the fire. He thought of the rush he felt the night before. He wondered if Lance would try something like that again. He wondered if Lance even wanted to. 

Keith wanted to.

But Lance lay still facing the other direction. The shed was small, so their bodies were pretty close together, but Lance seemed a million miles away. Keith wanted to be closer, to feel Lance close to him. He gazed at the supple skin that stretched over Lance’s broad shoulder and arm. It must be so soft.

Without thinking, Keith reached and let his hand hover over Lance’s arm, then stopped. For once, he was hesitant, wondering if Lance would be okay. Then he steeled himself and laid his hand on Lance’s arm. He was just close enough to reach.

Lance stiffened, but slowly turned over to face Keith. And there they were, face to face, gazing at each other in the near darkness. 

Lance felt his insides twitter. Keith’s gaze was calm and even, but there was a hunger in his eyes. Lance thought Keith would pounce any moment and tear him to shreds. 

Keith lifted his hand and Lance flinched, but he only tentatively touched his cheek. Lance’s heart skipped a beat at the gentle touch. It was barely even there.

Keith sat up a bit and leaned over Lance. Lance rolled onto his back and gazed up at Keith. Then Keith slowly started leaning closer. His mouth parted, and his eyes closed slightly.  
Lance quickly put a hand against Keith’s chest and Keith stopped. He shut his mouth. 

“Sorry,” Keith murmured. Then moved to turn away.

Lance grasped his arm. “Hey! Where’re you going?”

Keith turned back to him and propped himself up on his elbow. He looked confused. “Do you want to keep going?”

Lance pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. Then he reached down and palmed Keith’s bulge.

Keith gasped and grabbed Lance’s wrist, pulling his hand away. He lifted it up to his chest and held it there. Lance’s heart hammered in his chest.

“I was thinking…” Keith began, looking earnestly into Lance’s eyes, “we could…maybe take things slow tonight…”

Lance gazed at him. He looked almost sheepish and a warmth began to fill Lance’s chest. He could feel Keith’s fluttering heart against his hand.

Lance gulped and nodded. “Okay,” he breathed.

Keith squeezed Lance’s hand and then let it go. Then slowly he leaned forward again, lightly cupping Lance’s face. Lance held his breath, but Keith only pressed his lips to his cheek. Lance exhaled sharply, and Keith pulled back.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, his voice honey in Lance’s ear. 

“Yeah,” Lance gasped and felt himself leaning into Keith. 

Keith leaned forward and pressed long, slow, wet kisses into Lance’s cheek and jaw. He worked his way around his earlobe and down to his neck. Lance’s hand grasped onto Keith’s shoulder of its own volition as waves of electricity shot through his entire body. 

Lance slowly fell onto his back and Keith followed, straddling him as he continued nuzzling and blazing a trail of burning kisses all over Lances neck and face.

Lance’s fingers tentatively grazed Keith’s back and he felt him shiver above him. Lance gawked in amazement as Keith sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, his hair floofing back over his face.

Keith pulled on the hem of Lance’s shirt and Lance sat up to help Keith remove it. He sat back on his elbows and exhaled a shaky breath. 

Keith gazed down at Lance’s bare chest with hooded eyes. He softly ran his hands up Lance’s stomach and chest, stopping briefly to rub his thumb over his nipples. Lance inhaled sharply and blushed. A small smile played on Keith’s lips and he continued to rub his hands up Lance’s chest, over his shoulders and down his arms. Then he pulled Lance up into a sitting position and placed Lance’s hands on his own chest. Lance gulped, tentatively running his fingertips down Keith’s chest. 

Keith grasped Lance’s shoulders and began kissing his neck again, running his fingers up through his hair and down again, leaving waves of tingles in his wake. He kissed and licked all over his neck and his cheeks and his ears and collar bone and down his chest. Lance’s breath came out hitched and shaky and he felt himself trembling under Keith’s touch.

Lance didn’t know how much more he could take. The electricity, and the heat building inside him, and the cool, gentle touch of Keith’s caress was almost too much. 

Before he could stop them, tears began falling from his eyes and he tried to turn his face away. His breath came out even more shaky, and wet.

Keith noticed and pulled away to look at Lance’s face. His eyes widened.

“Lance?” he cried, clasping the sides of Lance’s face.

Lance tried to look away, scrubbing at his eyes.

“Oh my god, Lance, are you okay? I-I’m sorry. Hey, look we don’t have to keep going, we can stop—”

“Please don’t fucking stop,” Lance growled, grasping Keith’s wrists, holding his hands to his face.

Keith’s brows knitted together in worry and he searched Lance’s face. Lance sniffled and let go of one of Keith’s wrists to wipe at his face. Keith helped wipe some of his tears away too.

“It’s just—” Lance said, sniffling. “It’s just…a lot. I’m not…used to it,”

“Have you…done this before?” Keith asked.

Lance rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. “Yes,” he said, but then in a softer voice, “but, not like this,”

“Oh,” Keith said nodding. He wiped more tears from Lance’s face. “Is this…okay?”

Lance sniffled and looked up into Keith’s eyes. Keith gazed back down at him, rubbing his thumbs over his cheeks. “Yes,” Lance whispered. Then, without thinking, he leaned forward and pecked Keith’s lips.

Keith pulled back in surprise. He stared at Lance, his mouth slightly agape. 

Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips onto Lance’s. It was slow, hesitant, barely there. Then grew deeper and deeper as Keith and Lance grew hungrier for each other. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s middle and Keith ran his fingers through Lance’s hair. 

It was like a spark had caught inside Lance and a fire blazed inside him. The flames licked at his insides and tingled in his fingertips and in his mouth. Keith felt as if life was being poured into him and drank from the fountain, becoming drunk with it. 

They kissed and groped each other, Lance’s hands awkward but eager. Keith liked that, and he pulled Lance closer into him. He held him there and kissed him fiercely.

 

Soon, their clothes were completely off, and they laid on their sleeping bags pushed together on the hardwood floor. Keith kissed down Lance’s chest and stomach and across his hip bones. He lifted Lance’s legs and kissed his inner thighs. Lance’s breath hitched in his throat. 

Keith propped Lance’s legs on his shoulders and used his arms to shift Lance’s hips closer to him. Lance bit his lips and watched with baited breath.

Keith took Lance’s shaft in his hand and slowly licked one long stripe up the back. Lance gasped and balled his hands into fists.

Keith licked another stripe up his shaft and ducked to suck on the head. Lance whined in front of him.

Then Keith slowly, painfully slowly, took in his length all the way down to the base and then back up again.

“Fuck, Keith,” Lance breathed, letting his head fall back and then propping himself on his elbows. Keith gazed at him with hooded eyes and raised an eyebrow. Then took his shaft all the way again, this time going slower and allowing a popping noise when he pulled off.

Lance moaned and tangled his fingers into Keith’s hair. A thin film of sweat covered his entire body. 

Finally, Keith took him in all the way again, but this time ducked back down. His head bobbed up and down at a steady, slow pace. He reached up and stroked Lance’s stomach as he went.

Lance placed his hand over Keith’s and moaned. Waves of pleasure, hot and cold, washed over him. His heart hammered in his chest and his breaths came out in gasps.

Soon, Keith started to pick up speed and Lance’s moans grew louder. He started to buck his hips and thrust into Keith’s mouth. Keith met his tempo and went down at the same time Lance thrust up. Lance’s moans turned into strings of curses and the fingers he had tangled in Keith’s hair strengthened their grip. Keith grabbed Lance’s hand that was on top of Lance’s stomach and held it. He held back his gag as he let Lance thrust deep into his throat.

Lance’s voice grew higher and higher in pitch and his thrusts became more erratic.

Finally, his hips began to shake. His eyes rolled back, and his mouth formed a silent O.

He came like the waves crashing against the beach. He bucked his hips and Keith struggled to stay on as he sucked him through his orgasm.

Lance gasped and let his hips fall back to the ground. Keith went down a few more times before popping his dick out of his mouth.

“Oh shit! Oh shit…Oh fuck,” Lance cried between gasps. He heaved deep breaths, his eyes and tip leaking. Keith crawled up his body and laid on top of him. Lance grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, parting only to gasp for more air. They tangled their legs together and held each other, working to catch their breath. Lance let his head fall back and Keith buried his face in the crook of Lance’s neck. Their heartbeats began to slow, and their sweat mingled on their skin.

Keith caressed the soft skin on Lance’s back and shoulders and closed his eyes. Lance closed his eyes too and rolled Keith’s dark locks through his fingers. They laid like that for the rest of the night, both falling deeply into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quite the turning point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another saucy part in this chapter.

Lance’s eyes fluttered open and he stared up at the ceiling of the shed. Birds chirped outside, the sheep bleated in the distance, and a yellow beam of sunlight streamed in through the window. Lance blinked to clear his eyes and then turned his head. 

Keith lay still next to him, quietly snoring, still peacefully asleep. He let himself gaze at his sleeping face a little while longer before trying to assess the damage.

Perhaps if he got up now, he wouldn’t have to face the inevitable awkwardness to come when Keith woke up. He counted the days in his head, wondering when it would be time for Keith to leave as slowly started lifting himself up into a sitting position.

Then suddenly Keith groaned, wrapping an arm around Lance with his eyes still closed. Lance stiffened as he helplessly watched Keith bury his face into his chest. Lance held his hands up, afraid to touch him. Is he awake?

Keith reached up and brushed the hair out his eyes, nuzzling even closer. “Mmmh, morning,” he rasped, pressing a quick kiss onto Lance’s chest.

Lance marveled at the sight. “Morning,” he replied.

“What are we doing today?” Keith said, his voice thick with sleep.

“Uh,” Lance said, still surprised. He hesitantly let his hands fall and wrap around Keith’s back. “I guess we’ll finish up and head back down to do some more work at the barn…?”  
“Mm, okay,” Keith said, curling in closer to Lance, not showing any signs of getting up.

Lance let the tension ease out of his shoulders and held Keith closer. They laid like that for some time, Lance in stunned silence, Keith in serene half wakefulness.

 

Later, after finally getting up, they got dressed and packed up their things. Lance doused out the remains of the fire and threw their bags into the back of the truck while Keith spread feed out to the sheep. Lance walked over and watched as Keith knelt down to hug the little runt. He was much bigger now and more lively as it’s mother ambled close by. Keith took his knife and sawed off the pelt of the old dead lamb. He rubbed the lamb’s head and gave it one last peck before standing up and turning to leave. He smiled when he caught Lance’s eye and Lance’s cheeks burned. 

They hopped into the truck and Lance started the truck, turning to back it out of the pasture. Keith turned on the radio low and gazed out the window, watching the sheep and the shed pull out of view.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” he said. “The view was really something,”

“If you wanna see something really beautiful, we gotta check out Veradero Beach,” Lance said.

Keith turned to him. “Yeah? You gonna take me?”

Lance bit back a smile. “I’ll think about it,”

Keith chuckled and turned back to the window. They rode in easy silence letting the quiet music fill the air.

 

They finally pulled up to the house and Lance turned into the yard. He cut off the engine and looked at Keith. Keith looked back and they smiled at each other. Then Lance glanced at the house and his heart jumped to his throat. His mother stood in the kitchen window looking at them. Her face was unreadable.

Lance cleared his throat and quickly opened his car door. “Let’s go, mama probably made lunch,” he said.

Keith’s face fell as he spotted Mrs. McClain, too. He followed suit.

Inside, Lance saw his father snoozing at the kitchen table. His mother was busy at the counter. Keith came in behind him and the door slammed shut. His father jumped and woke up. His gaze fell on Lance and he narrowed his eyes, grunting as shifted in his seat. He looked down at the newspaper in front of him.

“Lance, you’re back,” his mother sang, still facing the counter. 

Lance kicked his shoes off and walked over to her, kissing her on the cheek. “Morning, mama,”

“You boys finish with the sheep?”

“Yes,”

“And the wall?”

“Yes, mama,”

“Hm,” she said, turning to look at his father. He pursed his lips. “Good. Well, you boys must be hungry. Would you like something to eat, Keith?”

“Um, yes please, ma’am,” Keith said, stepping out of his shoes and taking a seat at the table.

She handed two plates to Lance with heaping meat sandwiches cut in half on each. Lance walked over and placed one in front of Keith and then sat one down at his seat. His mother set down a plate in front of his father and then sat down herself and they all began to eat.

“So how was it up there, Keith?” his mother asked.

“It was pretty good,” Keith replied. “Most of the lambs came out strong and healthy, we did lose one though,”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she said.

“Keith saved a runt, though,” Lance blurted between mouthfuls.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” his father growled.

“Oh, that’s so nice, Keith,” his mother said. “Thank you,”

Keith shook his head and smiled a shy smile. “It was nothing. Anyway, I do have concerns about some of the ewes,”

“Oh?” his mother replied, and they quickly fell into a discussion about the sheep.

Lance ate in silence, focusing on his food. He glanced at his father from time to time. His father ate slowly, methodically, grunting as he went. He lifted his mug to drink his coffee and it shook in his hand. Some spilled on the table as he worked to set it down.

“Oh, honey, do you need me to get you some more coffee?” His mother asked, interrupting herself.

“I’ll get it,” Lance said, and stood up before anyone could stop him. He took his father’s mug and the coffee pot and filled it almost to the top then he took a paper towel and wiped up the bit of coffee on the table before setting the mug down in front of his father. Then he sat down.

“Thank you, mijo,” his mother said, squeezing his hand.

“Could’ve used a rag instead of a paper towel,” his father muttered. “…a waste,”

Lance frowned and turned back his food. His mother and Keith continued their conversation.

 

After lunch, Keith and Lance went out and worked on the farm the rest of the day. They fed the animals, swept out the barn, took the tractor out and spread out the fresh manure. They milked the cows, gathered the eggs, drove back up and tagged some of the sheep. They went to the market and bought some groceries and came back just in time for dinner.

They ate with Lance’s parents again. Keith and his mom chatted about the animals. Lance and his father were silent.

Later, Lance lounged on the couch watching TV. His mother stood behind him ironing his father’s clothes. His father was in bed. Keith sat in the lounge chair next to the couch.   
Lance stared blindly at the baseball players on the screen. He peaked at Keith who seemed equally as engaged. Lance cleared his throat and looked at Keith again. Keith met his eyes. Lance raised an eyebrow. Keith smirked and looked back at the TV. Lance cleared his throat again and Keith turned to him. He made a kissing face. Keith bit back a smile.  
Suddenly, Lance stood and walked back to his mother. “I can do the rest, mama,” he said taking the iron from her hands. 

She put her hands on her hips. “Oh? And what do you want for it?”

“Nothing!” Lance said, refolding the shirt on the board. “It’s just…late. You should really go to bed,”

She eyed her son suspiciously. She turned to Keith who kept his eyes trained on the screen. She looked at Lance one more time before reluctantly turning and walking out the living room.

“Night!” Lance called after her. He stood, silently listening as she creaked up the stairs until he heard the door of her bedroom click shut. Then he turned to Keith. He quickly set the iron down and walked over to Keith wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing the side of his face. 

Keith giggled and grasped Lance’s arm. “You just couldn’t wait,”

“Nah,” Lance replied between kisses.

“You wanna do it right here?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lance said, moving to his neck.

Keith pulled away and looked Lance in the face. “We can’t do it right here, what about your parents?”

Lance shrugged. “They’re fine,”

“What about that ironing you just said you’d do? Besides, we should do this in the RV,”

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Lance said, nuzzling Keith’s neck.

Keith nudged Lance away and looked him in the eye. He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Lance exclaimed.

Keith stood up and walked up to Lance who stood up behind the chair. He pressed his lips to Lance’s and patted his belly. “Iron those clothes. You said you would,”

Lance dropped his shoulders and groaned. 

“I’ll see you in the RV,” Keith said, and walked out of the room. 

Lance sighed and scratched the back of his head. He reluctantly walked back to the ironing board and began ironing the shirt once more. He quickly ironed and folded the rest of the laundry his mother left out and placed it in the basket nearby. When he was done, he unplugged it from the wall and wrapped the cord around it. He placed it back into the linen closet and cleaned up the rest of the living room. He put away the ironing board and turned off the TV, and once everything was in it’s place, he picked up the laundry basket and crept up the stairs.

He stopped outside his parents’ door. He could hear the quiet, even breathing of his parents inside. He stood there, hesitating, before setting the basket down just outside their door and then quietly creeping back down stairs. 

He grabbed his keys from the hook beside the door, gently closed the door behind him, and then hustled out to the RV. His heart began to hammer in his chest and he squeezed his hands into fists as he tread through the breezy night. 

He whipped the door of the RV and slammed it shut behind him. And there was Keith, lounging on his bed, propped up with pillows, gazing back at Lance.

He smirked. Lance rolled his eyes.

He sauntered over to Keith’s bed and plopped down at the foot. He crossed his arms pouting. Slowly, Keith sat up and crawled down to Lance. He sat cross legged, facing Lance, staring at the side of his face. Lance stubbornly ignored him as he felt Keith gently brush the hair around his ear. He did this for some time, letting his fingers fall all over the side of his face.

Then slowly he leaned forward and began kissing Lance’s neck. Lance tried to hold back but quickly let himself giggle and open himself up. He turned to face Keith and kissed him on the lips. Keith cupped Lance’s face and Lance tangled his fingers in Keith’s hair. They pulled each other down on the bed and wrapped their legs around each other.

Lance lifted his leg and rubbed his thigh between Keith’s legs. Keith moaned against his mouth and pulled him closer. They started writhing against each other, running their hands up and down each other’s bodies. Lance nibbled on Keith’s bottom lip. Keith gazed at him with hooded eyes.

Then he flipped Lance onto his back and positioned himself between his thighs. Lance gazed up at Keith with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. Keith bit his lip and pulled his shirt over his head. He leaned down and kissed Lance fiercely, grinding his hips between Lance’s. Lance’s breath caught in his throat and he wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck. Keith ran his hands up Lance’s sides and up his arms, pushing them back and lacing their fingers together. He pinned Lance’s hands back above his head and slid down his body, placing scorching kisses all over his neck. 

Lance’s eyes rolled back, and quiet whimpers escaped his lips, his hips grinding into Keith with fervent need. Keith slid his hands down Lance’s arms as he licked and nipped at his neck, pulling his shirt down at the collar and kissing across his collar bone and down his chest. He sat up to push Lance’s shirt up, kissing all over his belly and chest and stopping near his nipple. He peeked up at Lance, his eyes almost black, and gently lapped at the sensitive nub. Lance inhaled sharply and cradled Keith’s head in his arms. Keith licked and sucked, clutching Lance’s sides. 

Lance tangled his fingers in Keith’s hair, breath shaky. Electric tingles spread through his body. Keith moved to the other side, sending more waves of pleasure through Lance’s body. He felt the heat building inside him and the hardness inside his pants. He rubbed it up against Keith’s bulge and smirked at Keith’s resulting moan. 

Keith gave Lance’s nipple one last suck before moving to kiss down his chest and down his belly until he hovered over the waist of his shorts. He gazed deep into Lance’s eyes as he pressed slow, wet kisses into the skin just above the top of the fabric. Lance watched in amazement, biting his knuckles.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Keith tugged on Lance’s shorts, lower and lower, kissing the skin as it became exposed. Lance squirmed under Keith’s body, trying to inch the shorts down further. Finally Keith sat up and unbuttoned Lance’s bottoms, pulling them off completely. Lance sat up and pulled his shirt off over his head. 

Keith laid down between Lance’s legs and kissed every inch of his thighs and groin. Finally, he took Lance’s shaft in his hand. He licked and sucked on his balls and then his dick and then back again. Lance watched, propping himself on his elbows, little moans ebbing out of his mouth. Keith took Lance in all the way to the base and then back out again. Lance gasped, grabbing onto Keith’s hair. Keith took him deep into his throat, up and down Lance’s shaft, picking up speed as he went. He moaned around his dick, and Lance felt the vibrations deep in his core.

Keith continued on, faster and faster, Lance’s moans getting louder and louder. He took Lance right to the edge before popping off and switching back to licking his balls. Lance gasped and groaned, cursing under his breath, clenching his fists in Keith’s hair. 

Keith licked one last stripe up the back of Lance’s dick and then sat up. He unbuttoned his own pants and pulled himself out through the zipper. He pulled Lance closer to him by the hips and sat in between his legs. He rubbed himself a couple times before pressing his dick on top of Lance’s. He rubbed his dick against Lance’s, picking both up in his hands and sliding his hand up and down. 

Lance gawked at the sight, marveling at how hot Keith looked, sitting above him rubbing their dicks together. He leaned up and pulled Keith into a kiss as Keith pumped his hips, sliding his dick along Lance’s. Lance kissed him deeply, moaning into Keith’s mouth as the friction caught his sensitive tip.

He broke away panting. “Take your pants off,” he breathed, pushing at Keith’s chest. Keith sat back and lifted his legs up, allowing Lance to sit up and yank his pants down.   
“Turn over,” he ordered, having his own tricks up his sleeve. Keith raised an eyebrow, smirking, but quickly obliged. He stood on all fours until Lance pushed his upper back down and he laid with his chest on the bed and his ass in the air. 

Lance gazed at Keith’s beautiful backside and licked his lips. He knelt before it, rubbing his hands together and then gave one cheek a loud smack.

Keith yelped and his whole body jerked. He looked back at Lance who rubbed the red mark forming on his skin.

Lance chuckled, “Yeah, is that good?”

“Ahh, fuck yeah,” he groaned. 

Lance smiled devilishly and smacked Keith’s ass once more, eliciting a hiss and a moan from Keith’s mouth.

He rubbed his ass, then shook it, making the flesh jiggle. Keith began to moan which then raised in pitch as he felt Lance’s tongue on his hole. 

Keith clenched his fists around the blanket beneath him as Lance swirled his tongue around his rim. His eyes rolled back, and he felt as if his insides were melting. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s hips and pulled him closer to him, burying his face in his cheeks. 

Keith bit his lip trying to control the noises flowing through his lips. He felt his muscles go limp wherever Lance touched him. He arched his back pushed himself against Lance’s face.

Lance paused and slapped Keith’s ass once more and caressed the red skin. “Wait!” he said, then excitedly laid down and positioned his head between Keith’s thighs. “Sit on my face, baby,” he growled, softly rubbing the side of Keith’s lugs.

Keith chuckled. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Lance replied and wiggled his eyebrows. Keith scoffed and bit back a smile before repositioning himself over Lance’s face. Grinning, Lance reached up and took Keith’s shaft in his hand. He licked it all the way from base to tip once before plunging it into his mouth. 

Keith gasped and shut his eyes. He let the tiniest bit of his weight rest on top of Lance propped himself up with his arms on the bed. Lance lifted his head up and down as he sucked Keith off, moving at a steady clipped pace. Keith’s moans grew higher and higher in pitch and he clenched his fists against the bed. He looked down and marveled at how his dick disappeared in and out of Lance’s mouth. This time, Lance looked back up at him maintained electrifying eye contact as he pumped with his mouth. 

“Fuck, Lance, I’m so close,” He gasped. “Let me do you,”

Lance popped off and licked his lips. Keith swung a leg over and allowed Lance to sit up. Keith sat down, scooting towards Lance, and pulled him into his lap facing him. Lance pressed his lips to Keith’s and Keith wrapped his around Lance’s back. 

Lance tangled his fingers in Keith’s hair and tugged as he kissed him with every ounce of his being. Keith pulled him close to his chest his gentle caresses turning into fervent gropes. He reached down and took Lance’s dick in his hands and slowly started stroking him. He swiveled his hands up and down, up and down, gaining speed. Lance began to moan against Keith’s lips, and finally broke away to gasp for air. He kept their foreheads pressed together and screwed his eyes shut.

Lance’s mind became dizzy as pleasure flooded his brain. He clung to Keith as he felt his hand go faster and faster. Before he could completely lose it, he reached down and stroked Keith’s dick too, furiously pumping with wild abandon. Keith gasped but continued to stroke, his pace becoming erratic. They stroked each other, fast and hard, clutching each other’s body with the other arm. 

Lance spiraled into oblivion and the wild seizing of his body with the sight of the spirts of white caused Keith to follow close behind. His cum made a mess on Lance’s belly and he squeezed him against his chest squishing it against their skin. The held each other as their bodies jerked with electricity and gasped for air. 

Keith buried his face in the crook of Lance’s neck and Lance hooked his chin over Keith’s shoulder. Lance continued to cling to Keith as his gasps and moans came out slower and slower. Keith kissed his neck and shoulders. They sat, letting their breaths and heartbeats slow. Lance closed his eyes and turned his head to kiss the side of Keith’s face. Keith turned to meet him and they kissed deeply. 

Lance broke away and fell back against the bed sighing with content. Keith chuckled and maneuvered himself from under Lance’s legs. He laid down next to Lance, kissing his shoulder before plopping back on the pillow. Lance turned his head and faced Keith. He smiled and laughed a breathy laugh. Keith laughed too shaking his head. They laid next to each other laughing, smiling, gazing at each other, basking in the soft blanket beneath them and the afterglow.

 

“I don’t think I’ve had it that good in…well, ever,” Lance croaked. His voice was tired from use and he felt a slight ache deep in his muscles all over his body. But it was a good ache and his mind was happy as he traced circles on Keith’s hand. It rested on Lance’s chest as Keith sat behind Lance, holding him. Lance’s head rested against Keith’s belly and Keith’s knees were propped up under Lance’s arms as he lay in between them. Keith’s other arm propped up his head and was bent against the pillows.

Keith smiled.

“Is this how people are in Texas? Or is this just you?” Lance said. Keith rolled his eyes. Lance looked up at him. “I see why you wanted to be in here for this,”

Keith chuckled. “Yeah, your house is pretty nice, but I don’t know if your walls are that thick,”

“Was I that loud?” Lance said.

Keith bit his lip. “Well…”

“Oh, god,” Lance muttered, covering his reddening face.

Keith laughed and wrapped his arms around Lance tighter. “It’s okay! I liked it,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Lance’s head. “Besides…I think I was just as loud,”

“Yeah,” Lance said, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah. Guess, you have that effect on me,”

“Heh, yeah, I have that effect on everybody,” Lance replied. Keith nudged him with his leg and Lance laughed. Keith pressed another kiss to Lance’s head.  
“You really think my house is nice?” Lance blurted. He looked up at Keith again.

Keith shrugged. “Nicer than any place I’ve been in. And you all have all these animals? Your parents must do pretty well for themselves,”

Lance frowned. “Not really. I mean…the farm and everything doesn’t really belong to my parents. The Cuban government used to pay my grandparents to work this land.”

“Oh,” Keith said. He hesitated. “Where…are they?”

“Uh…” Lance began, clearing his throat. “They uh…they…passed away…about a year and a half ago,”  
“Oh,” Keith said again. “Lance…”

“No, it’s okay. My grandfather got really sick. Then after he was gone, my nana wasn’t long after. They both went peacefully.”

Keith lifted his fingers and laced them between Lance’s. Lance glanced up at Keith and smiled a small smile. Then he continued.

“Anyway, towards the end of their life, my dad came down to help them out with this place. Then my mom came down after they passed. That was when I lived with my mom’s mom and my older brother for a while. But then she got sick and then so did my dad. So I had to come here after high school,”

“Wow,” Keith breathed, shaking his head. “So…you didn’t always live here?”

“No,” Lance replied. “I grew up in Arizona. My parents moved there when my oldest brother was still a baby. We just visited every summer,”

“Huh,” Keith said.

They sat silently, listening to the sounds of the night time. The wind howled in the distance. The lamp beside them hummed softly. Crickets chirped just outside.

“You said before that you almost went to college in Arizona,” Keith said suddenly. Lance stiffened. “Is…is this why you didn’t?”

“Heh, you remember that?” Lance said, chuckling weakly.

“Yeah, how come your brother didn’t come down to help?” 

Lance shrugged. “He tried in the beginning, but all my siblings are pretty settled in the states. It’d be hard for them to uproot everything and live down here. My brother Marco has his wife and kids and Nan, of course. My other brother Luis just got married and he and his wife are settling down. And my sister Veronica…well she just graduated college and she’s got this new job and everything—”

“Well, what about you?” Keith said. “You were going to college. Why did you have to be the only one to help?”

“I mean, it’s not like they don’t help at all. They always send money down here, and I talk to Veronica all the time—"

“Yeah but it sucks that they asked you to halt your plans while they—”

“They didn’t ask me,” Lance said, sitting up and turning to face Keith. “I volunteered. It’s not that simple Keith,”

Keith blinked, realizing too late his voice was starting to rise. He clenched his fist and released it.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, and sighed. “Look, we don’t have to keep talking about this,”

Lance’s brows perked up. “No. It’s okay,” then he turned and sat with his back against the wall next to the bed. Keith immediately missed his warmth and stared disgruntled at his uncovered body. They sat in silence.

Lance looked at Keith curiously. Then he smirked and pulled his legs into his lap. “You know, that’s the first time I’ve told anyone what’s been happening,”

Keith sat up straighter. “Really?”

Lance smiled. “Yeah, my friends from high school don’t really know,”

“Why not?”

Lance sighed. “I don’t know, it’s kind of a lot. And things just happened so fast. One moment I’m just a regular teenager, only worried about homework, friends, college applications, girls…”

Keith raised an eyebrow.

“And boys!” Lance said chuckling. “And then…next thing I know, my sister and my dad start fighting all the time, my grandparents die within months of each other, my parents leave and I’m living with my brother and his family, then my dad gets sick, and instead of going to freshman orientation, I’m catching the first flight to Havana.”

“Damn,” Keith replied. “That is a lot. But that’s really awesome of you to do all that,”

“Eh, it’s whatever,”

“It’s not, though. For you to willingly halt your plans like that to help your family? That’s really selfless,”

Lance chuckled lamely. “I mean, I guess I’m just great like that,”

“You are,” Keith said, then took Lance’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re a good person, Lance McClain,”

Lance gawked at him, mouth slightly agape. Then he smiled and squeezed Keith’s hand back. “Thank you Keith,” he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ocean is a beautiful place

The sun had not yet risen and Lance was quietly putting his clothes back on. He knelt down and gave Keith one last kiss on his cheek before creeping out of the RV. He tried to carefully close the door behind him, but it got stuck. He had to resort to slamming it shut. 

He winced as the metallic bang echoed in the early morning. He looked around, seeing no other sign of movement, then slowly sauntered back to the house. 

The sky was that pale blue right before the sun comes up, giving everything a dim, sleepy aura. Dew dotted the little tufts of grass around the front yard. The moon still hung faintly in the sky.

Lance stuffed his hands in his pockets and happened to glance up before he stepped into the porch. In the window, he could make out the dark outline of his father looking out at him. His expression was unreadable. Lance stiffened, but kept walking, continuing on into the house.

 

Lance and Keith forked down their breakfast without speaking. Mrs. McClain stared at them with mild concern. Mr. McClain ignored them as he read the newspaper.

Lance swallowed his giant mouthful and said, “Keith and I might go down to the beach today,”

His mother pursed her lips. “That’s fine, but you better make sure all the chores get finished first. The animals need to be fed, and the barn needs to be swept out—”

“I already fed the beasts,” his father grunted. “You all slept in a little late today,”

Lance eyed his father as Mr. McClain raised an eyebrow at him and sipped his coffee. Lance frowned.

“Well, make sure the rest gets done in a timely manner,” his mother continued.

“Sure thing,” Lance said, and angrily devoured the rest of his food.

 

Keith and Lance hurried through their work at the barn. They swept out the barn and cleaned out the chicken coop. They drove up to check on and feed the sheep. When all was said and done, Lance took the truck and sped back to the house. The engine was barely off when he yanked Keith inside and pulled him up the stairs to his room.

“Let’s hurry before my parents have anything else to say,” he said, finally letting Keith’s arm go.

“Wow, cool room,” Keith said. “Is that a guitar?”

“Yeah,” Lance said as he rummaged through his closet, “It was my dad’s.”

“Huh,” Keith replied.

Lance threw a large canvas bag behind him and put two sets of sandals in it. He stood, pulling out two surfboards, and went through his drawers. He filled the bag with two pairs of shirts, towels, and a large bottle of sunscreen. 

“For you,” he said, smirking as he chucked the bottle into the bag. “You don’t seem like the type who tans easily,”

Keith scoffed and rolled his eyes. Lance laughed and threw a pair of trunks at Keith and immediately started undressing to put on his own. Keith hesitated, but quickly followed suit. He turned away as he pulled down his bottoms.

Lance chuckled. “It’s not like there’s anything I haven’t seen before,”

Keith huffed out a laugh as he pulled the trunks up. “Yeah, I seem to remember you enjoy watching me when I’m naked,”

Lance guffawed loudly but his cheeks and ears burned. Keith laughed, shaking his head.

Lance shoved the surfboards into his arms, pulled the canvas bag over his shoulder and lead the way down the stairs. 

Outside, Lance motioned Keith to throw the boards into the trunk. Then they hurriedly hopped in and sped away.

 

Latin music blared through the speakers and Lance drummed along with his fingers on the steering wheel. Keith gazed out the window, watching as the trees and rolling hills whizzed by. 

Slowly, countryside morphed into cityscape and Lance began to navigate the busy streets. 

Eventually, they made it to the grassy area just before the sand where other cars were parked. Lance cut the engine of and they hopped out, making their way down. Keith followed Lance, holding the surfboards, as they made their way to an open spot on the sand close to the water. The beach was very crowded as locals sauntered around and scantily clad tourists sunbathed and took group selfies. They set down their things, and Lance immediately ripped his shirt over his head, picked up a board, and ran into the water.

“Hey!” Keith called, shucking his own shirt off and sprinting off with the second board.

Lance set his board into the water and climbed on, paddling out further. “Be careful of the riptide!” he called back to Keith.

Keith carefully waded through the water and pushed his board ahead of him. As the water got deeper, he ungracefully climbed onto his board and paddled out to where Lance sat patiently waiting. Lance grinned as Keith came closer.

“Babe, you act like you never surfed before,” he said playfully,

“Yeah, there’s a considerable lack of waves in the desert,” Keith retorted, huffing as he stopped just a couple feet away.

Lance laughed. “Why are you so far away?” he said and grabbed at Keith’s board.

The force moved the board and Keith clung to the board for stability. “Hey! Don’t do that! I just got up here,”

“Aw, Keithy-babe, you afraid of the water?” Lance cooed.

“No,” Keith barked, “Obviously. I thought this was gonna be a nice relaxing date at the beach,”

“Aw, Keith, but it’s such a beautiful day! We could have so much fun,”

Keith groaned. “It’s too hot to have fun,” and he closed his eyes, letting the midday sun warm his face. 

Lance pursed his lips. “Yeah? Maybe you should cool off,” he said, then he leaned over and splashed water at Keith. Keith yelped in surprise and scrubbed at his face. He glared at Lance.

“What the hell?” he shouted, then splashed Lance back. 

Lance laughed shielding his face. He splashed Keith back too.

“Cut it out!” Keith yelled, but a smile pulled at his lips as he splashed back.

Lance turned away, letting the water hit his back. Then scrambled up on his knees and leaned toward Keith. “Get over here!” he yelled, grabbing Keith’s board and pulling it towards him. Keith continued to splash him as Lance pulled him closer. Then he used his foot to shove at Lance’s board, causing Lance to lose balance and fall headfirst into the water. 

Keith laughed heartily as Lance disappeared under the surface. He sat and waited for Lance to resurface, letting himself catch his breath. When he didn’t, he leaned over the side of his board.

“Lance?” he called searching the depths. He leaned closer.

Suddenly Lance burst out of the water and wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck.

“Shark attack!” he yelled, before pulling both of them down.

Keith clung to Lance under the water but quickly pushed him off so he could swim back up. He burst through the surface, gasping for hair, his hair flattening against his face. He heard Lance break the surface next to him, gasping and laughing.

He pushed his hair out of his face and glared at Lance. Then a devilish grin spread across his face as he lunged for him. He dunked Lance down into the water, laughing at his surprised gurgling as his head went below. Lance yanked him down with him and they both went under again.

They went on like that for a long time, dunking and splashing each other. Then Lance led Keith further out and helped him surf over small waves. He stood on his board, clinging to Lance’s hands as he cautiously rode over the gently rolling water. 

Later they paddled back to shore and gathered their things and Lance took Keith to an out cropping of rocks that jutted out into the sea.

“This is where my siblings would go when we wanted to get away from the tourists,” he explained, bursting with glee as he climbed up the rocks.

They took turns jumping off of higher and higher rocks. On the highest summit, the stood together looking down into the water. Keith looked at Lance apprehensively. Lance smiled and took his hand. Together, they jumped off.

 

The sun switched sides in the sky and Lance and Keith lounged on their beach towels under a cluster of trees.

Keith laid on his back, using the canvas bag as a pillow. He looked out over the cloudless sky and crisp blue water. It was the bluest water he had ever seen.

He looked over at Lance who laid on his stomach, drawing in the sand with a stick.

“What would you have studied if you had gone to college?” he said, his voice quiet.

“Astrophysics,” Lance answered without hesitation.

“Oh,” Keith said, a little puzzled. “That’s…so interesting,”

“You probably thought I was gonna say oceanography or marine biology, right?” Lance said, turning his head to smirk at Keith.

“Heh, yeah actually,” Keith said sheepishly, “You just seem so natural in the water,”

“Yeah, everyone says that. I was captain of the swim team back in high school, and my parents had a pool that my siblings and I practically lived in,”

“Wow,” Keith said, chuckling. “So why astrophysics?”

Lance propped himself up on his elbows and thought for a moment. “I certainly love the water,” he said finally, “It’s calming for me. It’s home. But the stars? Galaxies? The great expanse of the universe? That’s exciting to me.” he looked up at Keith. “How space and time can act differently in different circumstances. The way stars and planets are formed and how they die in spectacular displays. And then there’s dark matter? String theory? Multiverse theory? It’s all so wild and mysterious and complex,”

Keith gazed at Lance’s eyes, the way they glinted in the light as he spoke. He smiled. “Yeah, it’s really something. The universe is so complicated,”

“And yet, so simple,” Lance said, beaming at Keith.

“And really, so are we. We’re all part of this system of interwoven and interdependent processes that began with the great birth of the universe, forged from the chaotic formation of all things, released from the same burning furnace from which whole galaxies emerged. We’re all made of the same cosmic dust,”

“Wow,” Lance breathed, gawking at Keith. 

Keith blinked, gazing out at the sea, sighing with content.

“That’s real philosophical, Mr. Kant. Is that what you would have studied in college?” Lance teased, but then stopped. “Oh wait, I forgot you don’t really like college,”

Keith waved him off. “Nah, that’s not it. It wasn’t really something I thought was possible for me until my brother Shiro convinced me to go. He wanted me to join the air force like him so I could go for free,”

“Oh. Why wouldn’t it be possible?”

“Eh, it’s kind of hard to do that sort of thing when you’re a ward of the state. I got moved around so much I had a hard-enough time graduating from high school let alone trying to go to college. I did, however, promise him I’d try community college right before he was deployed,”

“Oh, wow,” Lance replied, wondering if it was okay to keep going. “So, what happened?”

Keith sighed, his brows knitting together. He got a faraway look in his eye as he stared out into the distance. Lance bit his lip, hoping he wasn’t intruding.

“I got a call one day from the air force. They said Shiro had gone MIA and that they couldn’t find him. They said they wanted to pronounce him dead,” his voice shook. “I was so distraught, I couldn’t focus on my work. One day after class, my professor held me back and told me I was failing. I didn’t really care. He got mad, told me I was just another delinquent kid and whoever thought it was a good idea to force me to go there was an idiot. I got so mad I blacked out, and when I came to, I was standing over him and he was rolling on the ground holding his face. They kicked me out after that,”

Lance stared at him. “Wow Keith. I’m so sorry. That’s really messed up,”

Keith shrugged. “Anyway, they found him,”

Lance jolted back in surprise. “What?”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, they found him, but they had to amputate his arm. Gave him an honorable discharge. He’s back home in Texas,”

Lance blinked rapidly, gawking at Keith. He shook his head. “Jesus…well, that’s great!”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of hard for an amputee to return back to civilian life. And those disability checks can only go so far. I tried to find a full time job to support both of us, but it’s kind of hard to do with only a high school education. That’s when I remembered my knife,”

Keith sat up on the towel and looked Lance in the face. “My social worker told me it was my dad’s but it didn’t look Korean. I had it appraised one day. I thought maybe I could sell it for some extra cash. But the guy said it was a really rare and ancient Celtic relic. He said whoever it belonged to probably came from a long line of special hunters and probably had a lot of money. So I’ve been searching ever since, trying to find where she is,”

Lance frowned. “She?”

Keith pressed his lips into a hard line. “My mother,”

“Oh,” Lance huffed. They gazed into each other’s eyes, the silence between them heavy. The waves crashed in the distance and seagulls cried nearby.

Suddenly, Lance’s phone buzzed and startled them out of their trance. Keith blinked and then turned to pull the canvas bag toward them. Lance reached inside and dug around, grabbing his phone before it could stop.

“Hello? Mama?” he breathed. Keith sat back on his hands, sighing. He looked out into the distance again.

Lance’s face started to contort and Keith looked at him with concern. He placed a hand on his knee, trying to meet Lance’s eyes.

Lance met his gaze, his eyes wide and his brows knitted together. He placed his hands on top of Keith’s and spoke for the first time in a long time. “Where are you guys?” he asked. Silence. “Okay, we’re heading there now. Love you,” he said, then hung up.

“Lance, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Lance gulped. “My, uh…my dad collapsed. They’re at the hospital now,”

Keith’s eyes widened. “Let’s go then,” he said, pulling Lance up to his feet. They gathered up their things and headed back to where the truck was parked.

Lance felt he moved mechanically, his legs carrying him of their own accord, his arms throwing the boards into the trunk and hoisting him into the driver’s seat on their own without him instructing them to. 

Lance started the car and Keith placed a hand gently on his thigh. He looked at him, his eyes pleading. Keith looked back with a steady gaze. Lance inhaled deeply and turned to pull the truck out of its parking spot.

 

The nurse lead them down the corridor at a clipped pace, passing the various patient rooms and hurried physicians with deliberate steps. There was a hush all over the building and Lance struggled to maintain a straight face.

The nurse turned toward a door to their left and motioned for Keith and Lance to follow him inside.

“Mrs. McClain,” he said gesturing toward the boys and then walking out.

“Mama,” Lance said. She stood up as he walked toward her and they embraced. Keith stood behind Lance, looking at the ground. She let Lance go and reached around him to squeeze Keith’s arm.

“Thank you for being here,” she whispered, her eyes glassy and red. He smiled and nodded weakly.

“What happened?” Lance said.

She sniffled. “I was hanging up the laundry to dry and I saw him coming down the hill from the barn. Next thing I knew he was laying on the ground. I drove him here, to the emergency,”

Lance turned and looked at his father. He laid motionless with his eyes closed, wearing a breathing mask and hooked up to various tubes. His skin looked pale, his face gaunt.

“The doctor said it was another stroke. She said it’s common for people to have a second one after the first. That it’s probably due to stress,”

Lance pressed his lips into a hard line. “Is he gonna wake up?” he said through clenched teeth.

She shook her head. “I don’t know, mijo,”

They stood there together, Lance’s arm wrapped her shoulder, gazing at his father. Keith stood a little ways back, silent.

Later, Lance brought in two chairs and he and Lance sat on one side of the bed while Mrs. McClain sat on the other. They sat in silence. Only the muffled humming of the machines and the steady beep of the heart monitor made noise in the room. Murmurs from outside the room floated in.

Keith watched Lance. He was leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees. He held his head up with his thumbs and his fingers were clasped together. His eyes were screwed shut and there was slight tension between his brow. He was barely breathing.

Keith sat up and nudged Lance. “Hey, Lance, can you show me where the cafeteria is?” he whispered.

Lance, startled, looked up at Keith. Keith gave him a knowing look. Lance cleared his throat and nodded, and they stood and left the room. 

 

In the cafeteria, Lance sat with his head on the table. His head felt thick and foggy and his jaw ached from clenching.

He sat up when he heard Keith sat down and he scrubbed vigorously at his nose. Keith set a steaming cup of tea down in front of him and another one in front of himself. 

They sat silently, Lance wrapping his hands around his cup, Keith carefully stirring his. Lance glared into the brown liquid, it’s soft smell doing nothing to calm him as steam wafted up into his face. The ache in his face seemed to spread to his whole body as if all of him was turning into stone. He tightened his grip around the cup, feeling as if his joints were grinding together.

“How are you feeling?” Keith murmured.

Lance shook his head, not trusting his voice.

“You hungry?”

Lance cleared his throat and lifted his head a bit. “A little,”

“Wanna…get something to eat?”

He shook his head again. “I don’t want to leave my mom for too long,”

Keith nodded, pressing his lips together. Then he slowly reached a hand toward Lance and gently rubbed his knuckles with his index finger. Lance looked up at him and his eyes went soft. He uncurled his fingers from around the cup and linked his index finger with Keith’s. Keith smiled.

 

Lance sat beside his father’s bed. Keith decided to stay in the cafeteria. His mother went to the bathroom.

He sat with his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees, gazing at the machines keeping his father alive; the steady drip of the IV, the beep of the heart monitor, the sigh of the machine pumping air into his mask.

He looked at his dad’s face. His expression was so calm, so peaceful. Where his eyebrows seemed perpetually drawn together there was only smooth skin. Even the wrinkles under his eyes seemed less deep.

Lance gazed at his father’s pointed nose—his pointed nose. He imagined his father’s piercing blue eyes, the eyes he got from him. His hands lay still at his sides, relaxed over the blanket. His father’s fingers were long and thin—just like Lance’s. 

He crept forward and reached out toward one hand—with the gnarled knuckles, and the calluses, and the liver spots. He reached out and gently touched that hand with his pointer finger, gently grazing the skin on the top. It was surprisingly soft.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

His father did not stir. 

He silently wept.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith tries to cheer Lance up and Lance realizes he really appreciates it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in this chapter. I don't know how good I am at writing it, but I guess practice makes perfect.

Keith heard Mrs. McClain silently creep in, her presence waking him up. He opened his eyes to find her standing in front of them.

He and Lance were sitting in the chairs they had pulled up against the wall in Mr. McClain’s room. Lance was sleeping with his head on Keith’s shoulder. Keith had fallen asleep with his head on Lance’s.

He blushed and sat up, nudging Lance awake. Lance opened his eyes, and upon seeing his mother standing there, quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Lance, you and Keith should go back to the house. The animals still need to be looked after,”

Keith looked out the window; the sky was a deep blue. The sun had just set.

Lance groaned. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,”

“What if…he wakes up?”

She shook her head. “I’ll call you if there’s any news. Now go,”

They gathered their things and left the hospital. Once in the truck, Lance started the car and backed out of the parking lot. They rode in silence.

 

By the time they got to the house, the night was fully upon them. The crickets were chirping, and the heat of the day had given way to the gentle breeze of the night. The moon was bright in the sky. Lance silently took the canvas bag and the surfboards into the house and into his room. Keith stayed in the kitchen.

He listened as Lance moved about upstairs. He mosied toward the kitchen sink and washed his hands. Next to the sink was a tiny notepad, worn with use. He dried his hands on the towel hung on the stove and carefully picked up the notepad. He flipped through it, scanning the tiny scribbles and the light calligraphy. He discerned that these were recipes.  
He flipped to one, and after reading the instructions, reasoned that it was easy enough. He held his belly as he felt his stomach growl. He figured Lance was starving too but was probably too upset to do anything about it. He set down the notepad, open to the page of his chosen dish, and set to work.

He opened the refrigerator and the cabinets, taking out the ingredients needed. He pulled out the necessary cookware and cutlery and turned on one of the burners on the stove.

As he went about chopping and stirring and mixing, he listened for Lance upstairs. He had gone quiet. He hoped that the smell of the food would coax him down.

After some time, with the meal almost done, he put two cups on the table and filled them with lemonade. He set the stew to a simmer. 

Finally, he heard footsteps on the stairs and Lance appeared in the doorway. His eyes looked glassy in the dim light.

Lance looked around the kitchen bewildered. He stared at Keith, mouth agape. Keith looked away suddenly flustered.

“You know how to cook?” Lance said.

Keith huffed out a laugh. “I know how to read. Sit. It’s almost ready,”

Lance slowly made his way to table and sat at one of the places where the lemonade sat. He eyed it suspiciously. 

Keith turned the fire off and plated the stew into to bowls. He set one in front of Lance and the other in front of the other place setting. He turned and pulled to two spoons out of the draw and gave one to Lance before sitting down himself.

“Be careful, its probably hot,” he said.

As if in a daze, Lance picked up his spoon scooped up some stew. The shredded beef looked tempting and steam rose up, wafting the smell into his face. He inhaled and the ache in his head was lifted. He blew away the steam and stuck the spoon in his mouth. The meat and vegetables melted in his mouth.

They ate in silence, only the clinking of their spoons in their bowls and the hum of the fan above the stove filled the room. 

After a while, Lance cleared his throat. “My mom makes this all the time,”

Keith nodded, swallowing his food. “I found the recipe in your mom’s little notebook,”

“She’d flip if she saw someone outside the family making this,”

Keith’s widened. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry—”

“No, no, Keith, it’s fine. This is really good,”

Keith searched his eyes. 

Lance nodded reassuringly. “Thank you,”

Keith pressed his lips together and nodded once before turning back to his meal. They fell into an easy silence.

“If there’s anything else you’d like me to do to help you relax, just let me know,” Keith said, spooning the last of the stew into his mouth.

Lance swallowed and pursed his lips. “Thank you. I do have one thing in mind,”

 

Keith tried to focus on sitting still while Lance painted the red goo on his face. It smelled of strawberries and had little hard bits in it that seemed to scrape against his skin.

Lance stood over him as Keith sat on the toilet top, holding his face up with a finger under his chin. His face was tense as he concentrated on applying the mask. He himself already had on an even coat on his face. He turned to pick up another dollop from the jar and Keith took that opportunity to stick his tongue out and lick the gunk on his chin.

Lance turned back around and upon seeing Keith, raised an eyebrow and smacked his lips.

“Keith, Ew,” he said.

“What?” Keith replied, touching his finger to his cheek.

“Don’t touch. And don’t eat!” Lance said, but Keith had already stuck his finger in his mouth. His face turned and he made a show of hacking and spitting.

“It smells so good!” he wailed. “Why does it taste like that?”

“You’re not supposed to eat it, genius. It’s just gonna exfoliate your skin,”

“Hm,” Keith huffed, only vaguely knowing what that meant.

Lance pursed his lips and continued slathering Keith’s face. 

“You don’t strike me as someone who’d be into this kind of stuff,” Keith said.

Lance sighed. “Welp. Gotta keep the face soft. Easier for people to sit on,”

Keith scoffed, and Lance chuckled. The first time that night.

“Nah, JK. My sister used to do this with me all the time,”

“Yeah?” Keith replied.

“Yeah, she taught me all about skin care and stuff. She was really into it,” He stood back, examining Keith’s face. Then he set the brush down and leaned against the sink.

“Is that the one who just got out of college?” Keith said, resisting the urge to touch his face.

“Yeah, she’s a couple years older than me. We’re really close ‘cause we’re the closest in age,”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we still facetime every week or so. But she doesn’t really come around so much,”

“Why not?”

Lance shook his head. “She and my dad don’t have a good relationship. They started really going at it with each other her senior year of high school. Then she left for college and never came back,”

“Why?” Keith asked, ignoring the tingling all over his face.

“I don’t really know. Whenever I bring it up, she just brushes it off or gives me a vague explanation,”

“Huh,” Keith said. “Weird,”

Lance nodded. “Yup. Anyway, we got another 10 minutes or so with the stuff. Then I guess we can go to bed or whatever—”

“How do you feel about us taking a bath?” Keith said.

Lance frowned. “A bath?”

“Uh huh,” Keith nodded.

“Us? Like, together?”

“Yeah,”

Lance raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. “You serious?”

Keith shrugged. “Yeah. I mean we don’t have to, I just thought after a day like today, it might be…nice,”

Lance looked down thinking for a moment. Then he peeked up at Keith and nodded.

 

The mild lavender smell of the suds and the heat of the water released the tension from Lance’s muscles, but his heart beat at a clipped pace with the feeling of Keith gently stroking his shoulder. He sat with his back against Keith’s chest and in between Keith’s legs.

Keith’s hands were so soft, so gentle. Lance could feel him breathing, his chest slowly rising and falling behind him.

Keith pressed his cheek against the side of Lance’s head. “You know, I was thinking…what if I stayed on for a little longer?” he murmured into Lance’s ear. “Just until your dad gets better,”

Lance sighed, swirling the bubbles around him. “I’d like that,” he said.

Keith smiled and kissed the back of his head.

“Hey,” Lance said after a while. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mmm, shoot,”

“Why are you so…gentle with me?” he asked, then turned to look Keith in the face. “I mean…like, I’ve seen what those hands can do,”

Keith chuckled. “I don’t know. I guess…I guess I’m gentler with things I care about,”

Lance scoffed. “Aw, you care about me?” He teased.

“Yeah,” Keith said, like it was obvious.

Lance blinked rapidly, taken aback.

Keith searched his face. Lance stared back, his breath catching in his throat at the earnest look in Keith’s eyes.

Lance’s eyes pricked and he pressed his lips into a hard line. He lifted his hand and gently brushed the hair back from Keith’s face. Then he softly pressed his lips to his. Keith kissed back, cupping Lance’s face. Lance broke away to breath, pressing his forehead to Keith’s. Then he turned, resting his head back on Keith’s shoulder. Keith resumed tracing circles into Lance’s arm.

 

Lance moaned into Keith’s mouth as he ground his hips into his and tangled his fingers in his hair. Keith kissed back, clinging to Lance with urgency. Their legs were tangled together, and they rolled their naked bodies into one another like silk ribbons wrapping around each other in the wind. 

Keith broke away to press his lips down Lance’s chin and neck. Lance gasped for breath. In the warm glow of Lance’s bedroom lamp, Keith’s eyes looked almost black, and when he glanced up at Lance as he kissed down to his chest, Lance swore he saw them smoldering like hot coals.

Keith licked at Lance’s nipple and he closed his eyes, moaning. Electric tingles sparked throughout his body. Keith lapped at the nub, gently, slowly, moaning as he did so, the vibrations flowing across Lance’s sensitive skin. He kissed across his chest and sucked on the other one. Lance cradled Keith’s head against him.

Keith licked and kissed down his tummy, working his way down Lance’s body. He bit his lip as watched Keith nip at his hips, his inner thighs. He swirled his tongue slowly around his balls, locking his gaze on Lance. 

He took his shaft in his hands and kissed it, licking at the tip, and up and down it’s length. Lance watched with baited breath, one hand in Keith’s hair, the other resting on his belly. Keith took Lance into his mouth and moaned as he sunk down to the base and up again. 

He twisted his hand as his head went up and down. His pace was slow; he wanted to take his time. He kept his eyes on Lance, watching as his brows began to knit together and his chest deepened in color. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, but then sat up again to watch Keith work. He ran his fingers up his stomach to his chest, letting them graze his nipple.

Keith quickened his pace a bit and Lance’s moans grew in pitch. Then he slowed again, and lance groaned, his eyes rolling back. He took Lance out his mouth and licked up the shaft, then sucked on the balls again before plunging him back into his mouth.

Little beads of sweat dotted Lance’s forehead as he played with his nipple, clinging to Keith’s hair. Keith picked up the pace again and his moans became breathier. He was starting to get close and he screwed his eyes shut.

“Ah, Keith, I want you inside me,” he gasped.

Keith slid Lance’s dick out his mouth. “Yeah?” he said, languidly, kissing the shaft. “Are we…prepared to do that?”

Lance nodded, breathing heavily. He scooted over, and Keith propped himself up on his elbows, letting Lance lean over the side of the bed. He reached toward his bedside table and opened the drawer. He pulled out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube and set them on top. He took the box of condoms and handed them to Keith.

Keith took it but hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Lance nodded again.

Keith bit his lip and then proceeded to open the box. He hastily pulled one out and threw the box to the side. Lance rolled to his side and Keith rose and laid behind him. Lance lifted his leg toward his chest and stroked himself.

Keith put the little square packet beside him and scooted closer to Lance. He wrapped one arm around Lance’s body and grazed his ass with the other hand. He sunk his finger between his cheeks, gently teasing the hole. Lance inhaled sharply and clung to Keith’s arm.

He continued to tease it before pulling away. He reached over Lance and took the bottle of lube, pumping some onto his fingers. He rubbed it around his fingertips and then slid hand into his ass again. He teased the hole once more, this time pushing against it. Lance’s breath shook, and he stroked himself faster. Keith kissed his upper back and the nape of his neck. Lance leaned into it and closed his eyes.

Keith pressed his finger further and slid in the tip. Lance lift his leg higher, the need starting to build inside him. Keith was working so painfully slowly; his dick was hard and heavy in his hands.

Keith finally pushed the rest of his finger in, slowly, stopping at the base. He continued to press soft, wet kisses into Lance’s neck and shoulder, using his other arm to pull him closer.

Lance wasn’t as tight as Keith had imagined. He slid his finger out some and then inched back in, eliciting a deep moan from Lance. Lance backed his ass into Keith’s hand, trying to get him to go deeper. Keith thrust again, and started going faster, working Lance open.

Lance clenched around Keith’s finger and he stopped. He held it for some time before releasing. He sighed from the effort and his body relaxed.  
“Keith,” he breathed. “Baby…I need you so bad right now,”

Keith growled, pressing one last kiss to Lance’s neck, then slid his finger out completely. He picked up the condom, ripped it open with his teeth, and rolled on his dick with one hand. He reached behind him and pumped more lube into his hand and slathered it onto his dick.

He quickly took his dick into his hands and pressed the tip against Lance’s hole. He slid it up and down along the entrance, before finally slowly pushing in.  
Lance gasped as Keith entered him, filling him to his core. He felt the heat emanating throughout his body and he ceased stroking himself lest he cum right then.

Keith held his dick at the base and thrust slowly in and out some. Lance’s warmth enveloped him, and he sighed with the feeling. Then he took his hand away, pulling up Lance’s leg with it instead. 

He started thrusting a little faster, going deeper and deeper until he was hilt deep. Lance’s moans came out long and loud with each push. He turned his head and kissed Keith on the lips, reaching back and wrapping his arm around Keith’s neck.

Keith kissed back, moaning against his mouth and thrusting faster. Soon, their skin began clapping together and the bed creaked with the movement. Lance broke away, crying out as the heat built up inside him and the waves of pleasure washed over him. Keith pressed his forehead onto Lance’s, watching as Lance unraveled before him. He gazed into Lance’s half lidded eyes, pulling him closer, thrusting harder.

Lance clung to Keith, his mind flooded with the feeling of Keith inside him, the warmth of his body against him. Suddenly, Keith’s thrust sped up and Lance called out, his body quaking under him. Keith’s dick hit Lance’s spot hard and fast, over and over again, melting his insides.

Lance moaned and cried and gasped before, tears streaming down his cheeks. He felt himself getting close and pressed his lips to Keith’s again.

Keith also felt himself getting close and his hips begun to shake erratically. He grunted loudly, clenching his teeth, choking at the end. He paused mid thrust, panting, screwing his eyes shut, struggling to gain back control. 

Lance groaned as he was pulled from the edge and he inhaled deeply.

“I’m sorry,” Keith breathed, burying his face in the crook of Lance’s neck. “I wanted to let you finish off inside me,”

Lance wiped the tears from his face, breathing so hard he was only able to nod.

Keith kissed the side of his face, then slowly, carefully, pulled himself out. He took his arm from around Lance’s body and sat up, pulling the condom off. He tossed Lance the box of condoms and swung his leg over, straddling him.

Lance was barely able to pull one out and rip it open. Keith watched, taking the lube and working himself open as Lance rolled the condom on. He took the excess lube on his hand and stroked Lance with, smirking as he felt him hardening in his hand.

He positioned his hips over Lance’s crotch, fingering himself with one hand and stroking Lance with the other. Lance watched in awe, his hands hovering limply over his chest. Then he rose on his knees, pressing the tip to his hole, and slowly lowered himself down.

He hissed with the mixture of pain and pleasure, and Lance gasped from the heat. Keith rose again, rolling his hips up and down. He looked down at Lance lustfully and let soft moans escape his lips. Then he reached out and took Lance’s hands and pressed them to his chest. He rubbed them up and down his chest and abs before letting them rest on his hips.

The sight of Keith above him made Lance internally swoon and he grasped onto Keith’s hips as he rode him. He watched in bewilderment as Keith rolled his hips back and forth. Keith ran his hands up Lance’s arms and leaned forward, laying down on top of him.

Keith pressed his lips against Lance’s, wrapping his arms around his head. Lance in turn wrapped his arms around Keith’s back, hugging him against his body. 

Keith shifted back and forth, trying to pick up speed. Lance pressed his heels into the bed and started thrusting up into him. Their paces matched, and Keith pushed back as Lance thrust up. Lance pushed deeper and deeper into Keith, feeling him begin to tense above him.

Keith broke away from the kiss and buried is face into Lance’s neck, clinging to him, moaning at a higher and higher volume. Lance began thrusting faster and faster, going deeper and deeper. Keith’s voice became hoarse and dug his nails into Lance’s shoulder.

The heat between them began to build and build, the sensations crashing over them in a torrent. Keith’s breath became choked in his throat and his body began to convulse. Lance held him as Keith clawed his arm, his voice breaking as he called out.

Lance continued to thrust until his own orgasm exploded inside him. He cried out and clenched his teeth. They squeezed each other as the tremors rolled through their bodies. Keith rose slightly and kissed Lance fiercely. 

Lance huffed loudly when Keith broke away and collapsed on top of him. Lance let his arms relax, but still rest on Keith’s back. They laid like that for a long time, letting the heart beats slow and their minds return to calm.

 

Lance and Keith snuggled on Lance’s bed. Only the light of the lamp on his bedside table and the faint glow of the stars on the ceiling made anything visible in the night. Lance laid with his back against Keith as Keith spooned him. The feeling of Keith behind him warmed his insides, but he couldn’t help the tension set in his face.

“Keith?” he murmured, turning a bit. “Keith,”

“Hm?” Keith answered, sleepily.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Another something?” he teased.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,”

“Mmm, what’s up?”

Lance turned flat on his back and looked up at the ceiling. “I remember you said you were a ward of the state and that your brother Shiro isn’t really your brother. You said you came here to find your family, specifically your mother—”

“Are you asking what happened to them?”

“I’m asking…if you’re okay here with my family,” Lance said, turning to face Keith. “Like is it hard for you? To see me with my parents and talk about my siblings and my grandparents and stuff…?”

Keith thought for a moment, his brows knitting together. “Not really,” he said. “Your parents are pretty great, especially your mom,”

“Yeah,” smiling a bit. “But, I just wanted to say I’m sorry that you had to be here for all of this. Especially since you obviously have your own problems to worry about,”

Keith shook his head. “It’s alright. Things happen. I just hope I’m doing a good enough job being here for you,”

Lance smiled. “You are,” he said, and laid his hand on top of Keith’s which sat on the bed in the space between them. “You’ve put up with me this whole time and I haven’t been able to reciprocate,”

Keith chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s okay. My issues are pretty…sad,”

Lance shrugged. “I don’t mind hearing about them,”

Keith pressed his lips into a hard line. “I mean they’re really sad. Maybe too sad for right now, considering what happened today,”

“You’ve been listening to me and helping me through my problems. I just want to be there for you,” 

Keith frowned. “I don’t know, I don’t want to make you sad,”

Lance squeezed his hand. “Keith. You deserve someone to listen who cares about you,”

Keith scoffed. “Aw, you care about me?” he mocked.

Lance laughed. “Maybe just a little,”

Keith laughed, but it quickly faded as his expression became stormy. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. 

“Well,” he began. “I don’t know. I guess…you know, I was born in Texas. My dad was a firefighter, living out in the desert. And one day he met my mom and they fell in love and had me. But then she left…when I was still a baby. That’s why I don’t really have any memory of her,” 

He glanced at Lance who looked at him with wide earnest eyes, encouraging him to continue.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, so, it was mostly just me and my dad for a while. But then one day, my dad was called out to work. It was a particularly bad fire. A couple got trapped inside. They tried to stop him, but you couldn’t tell him anything. So, he went back in and saved them. Then the building collapsed. He didn’t make it,”

Lance felt himself holding his breath but willed himself not to make any noise.

“That happened when I was really young. There was no one around to take me, so I got put in the system. Hopped around from foster home to foster home. Never really made any lasting relationships. Then I met Shiro,”

Suddenly a light flickered in Keith’s eyes and his whole expression brightened.

“By then I was about thirteen and I was getting in a lot of trouble. They forced me to be in this sort of Big Brother, Big Sister program for troubled youth. Shiro came in one day and I don’t know, maybe he saw something in me. He took me under his wing and he hasn’t given up since.

“He really pushed me to get through school, and he taught me how to be disciplined and to channel my anger. He helped me apply to community college and bought me books. He even helped me get a scholarship. I thought if I could live with him the rest of my life, I’d be happy. 

Then his expression turned cold. 

“Then he got deployed. And it was okay at first; we wrote each other a lot, and sometimes we’d even be able to video chat. Then, when he disappeared…I didn’t know what to do. I guess I was just so mad that the thing with my dad…happened again.

Keith sniffled, and Lance stiffened, searching his face.

“Anyway, I started struggling and they kicked me out and I was just so lost…and alone… I found myself returning to dad’s old house and I found my knife there. I remember him carrying it everywhere with him. He’d even sharpen it and polish it, but he never even used it. So, because it was important to him, I started to carry it around with me, too.”

“Then,” he said, his voice rising. “They fucking found him! And, God, I was so relieved. When we fell on hard times I wanted to do everything I could to make things work. I wanted to take care of him the same way he took care of me. I even almost pawned off my knife.

“But after learning about what it meant, I started wondering about my mom. I wanted to know why she left me. Why she left my dad to care for me by himself and why she didn’t come around when he died.” He turned his face toward Lance, and looked at him with wild, glassy eyes. “Like who is she? Where is she? How did she meet my dad? Why did she leave? Like, if it wasn’t for her, my life would be so different! But because of her leaving, I don’t even know who I am! And now I’m naturally untrusting, and I push people away before they can get close to me. I’m never able to make lasting relationships because I’m so afraid that they’ll leave!”

Lance moved back as Keith’s voice rose. Keith saw this, and his eyes suddenly filled with panic. He set his jaw and laid on his back. 

“I am so sorry,” he whispered. He roughly rubbed at his eyes, cursing under his breath.

Lance tentatively reached out and took Keith’s hand. “You don’t have to be sorry, Keith. Listen…I know how important it is to know where you came from to know where you’re going. But in the end, the only person who can decide all that is you. And you already know who you are,”

Keith’s breath shook as tears began to spill freely from his eyes. 

“You’re a special guy, Keith. Shiro knows that. I know that. You don’t need your mom to tell you. All that matters is that you know,”

Keith sniffed and gazed into Lance’s eyes. Lance leaned toward him and kissed the tears on his cheek. Then he pulled him into his arms and held him as tears silently fell down his face. Keith wiped them away and rested his hand on Lance’s chest. He closed his eyes, relishing their closeness, letting himself relax into the softness of his skin and the quiet of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again feel free to leave a comment and you can find me as marcel-lean on tumblr


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trouble in paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, these next few chapters took some time

The sunlight streamed through Lance’s window and warmed his face. He blinked his eyes open and stretched his arms, smiling as he heard Keith groan against his chest.

He chuckled and smoothed back Keith’s hair. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,”

Keith groaned once more. “’sleeping’ is the key word in that sentence,”

“Ah don’t sell yourself short; there’s at least some beauty in there,”

“Gee, thanks,” Keith muttered, and pulled away to yawn. “Anyway, what’s the plan for today? Should we be getting some work done?”

“Hmm,” Lance replied, “I was thinking more along the lines of rolling around the bed naked,”

“Hmm, tempting,” Keith said, looking at Lance through only one eye, “But your mom is counting on us to maintain everything, so we should probably get started,”

Lance groaned this time. “Do we have to?”

Keith chuckled and scooted up to plant a kiss on Lance’s cheek. “I’ll go make breakfast,” he said, and rolled out of the bed.

“Ugh,” Lance scoffed, “morning breath,”

 

They brushed their teeth and showered, and while Lance changed his clothes, Keith went down to the kitchen to start scrambling eggs. When Lance bounded down the stairs and strode into the kitchen, Keith turned offering a fork full of yellow fluffiness, which Lance immediately bit off.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing Keith on the cheek, “That’s pretty damn good,”

Keith smiled, plating the eggs, and setting down one plate in front of Lance. They ate breakfast, chatting cheerily about the chores they were to do. Then they geared up and headed out to the barn in the pick up.

They tended to the animals there, feeding the chickens and the cows and the pigs. They harvested any eggs, replaced the hay, and swept out the barn. After they finished with all that, they hopped back into the truck and zoomed up to the sheep pasture.

They fed the sheep and tagged the lambs. When they were done, Keith stood up, brushing his hands off and looking out over the horizon. The sun was high in the sky and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. He felt as if his soul had been cleansed in a river and he could finally breath. He didn’t even mind the heat. He looked over at Lance who was also looking out over the horizon. Framed against the back drop of the rolling hills and the bright blue of the sky, Lance seemed to glow, his golden skin shining in the sun. The wind picked up and Lance closed his eyes, relishing in the brief respite from the heat. Keith gazed at him, marveling at his beauty. 

Lance opened his eyes and caught Keith staring. He smiled devilishly and raised an eyebrow. “What are you staring at?”

Keith bit his lip. “You,”

Lance’s smile changed from devilish to sheepish and he looked away. 

Keith laughed and gestured toward the sheep. “Lemme show you something,”

“What?” Lance said, suspiciously.

Keith walked off toward the sheep and Lance followed. He came upon one of the ewes. He knelt down and took the empty cantina that was around his belt, positioning it under the ewe. He proceeded to milk her, gently cooing when she started to bleat and move about. He was able to fill it half way before she got too antsy and moved away. He stood and screwed the top back on.

“Eh, I don’t know, babe, I’m not too fond of sheep milk,” Lance said, ambling over to Keith’s side.

Keith shrugged. “Neither am I. But you ever have its cheese?”

Lance pursed his lips. “No, but I’m sure its expensive,”

“Not if you make it yourself,”

Lance raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened. Keith chuckled and led the way back to the truck.

 

Keith stirred the white liquid in the saucepan, inhaling its tangy smell as steam wafted up. As the milk began to curdle, Keith heard Lance bound down the stairs and trot into the kitchen. He sat down and set himself before strumming a few chords on the guitar in his lap.

Keith jumped a little and turned to see Lance sitting at the Kitchen table with the guitar from his room. Lance smirked at him and strummed a little more.

Keith smiled and turned back to the stove. “Dinner and a show, huh?”

“Depends,” Lance said, “Are you also on the menu?”

Keith glanced back at Lance and bit back a smile. “I thought you were vegan,”

Lance pouted exaggeratedly. “Aw, Keith!”

Keith chuckled, turning down the burner and pouring the contents into a bowl with a cloth over it. “Besides, dessert is supposed to come later,”

“Keith…” Lance growled, biting his lip. “But you’re not even that sweet!”

Keith laughed, lifting the cloth around the chunks and squeezing the excess liquid in the bowl. He brought the bundle to the table and sat down, sitting it on a napkin. “I guess you’re right,”

Lance scrunched his face and dug a curd out from inside the cloth. “No, that’s not true. You’re really sweet,”

Keith smiled at him, amused.

Lance chewed the curd, nodding. “I know what this’ll be good with,” he said, and then jumped up, setting his guitar against the table, and headed to the fridge. He took out a mason jar of jam and a pack of thinly sliced turkey. Then he went to the cupboard and took out a bread roll, some tea bags, plates, cups, and a tea kettle. He set the food on the table and filled the kettle with water, sitting it on a burner and turning it on. 

He then went to work slicing up bread. He spread the jam on all the slices, then added the turkey, and then the cheese curds on top. Keith watched in bewilderment, wondering at the combination of turkey and jam. Lance assembled the little sandwiches and set two in front of Keith on a plate. Just then, the kettle started to whistle, and he went and turned down the fire. He set a cup in front of Keith with a tea bag in it and carefully poured the hot water into the cup. He poured himself a cup before finally sitting down. He looked up at Keith expectantly.

Keith stared at the sandwich apprehensively. It looked fine, but he was hesitant. He looked up at Lance who only stared back.

“Try it!” he said. “I know it’s kind of weird, but its really good,”

Keith took a deep breath before obliging, picking up one of the sandwiches and taking a bite. The flavor took him by surprise but he decided he liked it. He looked up at Lance and smiled around his food.

Lance beamed. “Yeah, it’s good right?” he said, before taking a bite himself. 

Keith nodded, swallowing. “I didn’t think turkey, jam, and cheese would be a good combination,”

“Yeah, we used to have this all the time when I was a kid. But my dad would freak if he saw this,”

Keith frowned. “Why?” he said.

Lance shrugged, taking another bit. “Because this isn’t really how you’re supposed to do it. You’re supposed to use cream cheese,”

“Huh,” Keith replied. “Well, this is really good,”

“Thanks, but this sheep cheese on it is a nice change,”

“Yeah. Guess we make a pretty good team,” Keith said.

Lance looked up at him and smiled meaningfully. Keith smiled back.

They continued to eat and as they finished, Lance picked up his guitar again and started strumming. He started making up little ditties and soon Keith joined in, rattling off verses off the top of his head. By the time their plates were empty and their tea had cooled, they were laughing so hard tears began to fall.

Keith wiped his eyes and sighed with contentment. “Do you even know any real songs?”

Lance chuckled and thought for a moment. He pursed his lips. Then he reset his fingers on the guitar, and paused. He looked up at Keith and there was a sudden shyness in his eyes. “This is my mom’s favorite song,”

Keith sat forward and set his elbows on the table, propping his head up with his hands. Lance took a breath before strumming the first chords. The notes rolled out slowly in a lilting, haunting melody. His face became soft and his eyes became hooded, the only tension between his brows as he focused on the strings. His fingers danced across them, slow and deliberate. Then he opened his mouth and began to sing. His voice was breathy and low, the words flowing out like a waterfall. Keith sat mesmerized, unable to understand the lyrics but still captivated, watching Lance’s long, thin fingers work over the strings. He felt a deep, cooling calm settle in his chest.

Then suddenly the front door burst open and Mrs. McClain stepped into the doorway. Lance immediately stopped and turned to face her. Keith froze.

She looked tired but alert. She eyed them, puzzled. “Is that you, mijo? Playing that guitar?”

Lance quickly set the guitar against the table and stood to walk over to her. “Mama! You’re back,”

“I’m just here to get your father some things. He’s awake now, you know,”

Lance took her bag from her shoulder and held it in his arms. “He is? Why didn’t you call?”

“I did,” she said. “But I see how busy you two are,”

Lance scratched the back of his head. Keith cleared his throat and then stood, taking the dishes off the table and putting them into the sink. Mrs. McClain eyed Lance before walking out the kitchen. Lance followed her upstairs.

“Mama, I have to talk to you about something,” he said as he followed her into her room.

She stood at the dresser, opened the first drawer and started filling the bag in Lance’s hands with his father’s clothes. “Did you get everything done?”

“For the most part,” he replied.

She gave him a side eye but continued putting clothes in the bag. “Okay. I see you’ve already eaten,”

“Yeah, Keith milked one of the ewes and he made cheese with it. And he also made eggs for breakfast,”

She raised her eyebrows. “Hm. He’s a good boy,”

Lance nodded. Then he followed her to the bathroom where she started packing his father’s toiletries.

“He also said he’d be willing to stay on a little longer. At least until Papa gets back,”

She looked at him frowning. “What do you mean by that?”

He gulped. “I mean he wants to stay and help until Papa is all better,”

She pressed her lips into a hard line and put her hands on her hips. “Lance…Papa isn’t getting any better,”

Lance’s face fell and he felt a coldness creeping into his skin. “What? What are you talking about?”

She sighed and put a hand on his arm. “He’s really sick, mijo. This stroke really did him in. We almost lost him.” She squeezed his arm and turned back to the cabinet above the sink. “The doctor said he won’t be able to do any work,”

Lance blinked rapidly and shook his head, refusing to let her words sink in. “W-what are you saying? What, is he like—is he—”

“Lance,” she said, grasping his shoulders. “It’s all up to you now. Please just do what needs to be done without any complaining,”

“I’m not complaining—”

“I have to get back to him now,” she said and took the bag from his hands. “I probably won’t be back ‘til tomorrow. Please get everything done, and answer your phone when I call,” she gave him a pointed look, then kissed him on the cheek before hustling out of the bathroom. Lance listened to her tread down the stairs, bid Keith farewell, and shut the door behind her. He stood very still.

Then, he felt himself crumple to the floor, the cold tile reaching his skin through his pants. He sat with his legs splayed out in front of him, his hands in his lap. He stared down at them, ice crawling up his spine. He felt frozen.

He had felt so good that morning, working with Keith, taking care of the animals, having breakfast and lunch together, playing music and singing. Now he was sitting on the bathroom floor. 

He wondered what he would say to Keith. Keith would probably look at him with those big, sappy eyes and try to envelop him in a gentle hug. He’d probably suggest another bath or make him some more food. He'd probably kiss him, hold him, told him everything would be alright, and that he was there for him. And part of him wanted all that.

But part of him also wanted to get up and punch a wall. He wanted to break things. He wanted to yell. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to run down to the hospital at full speed and scream at the doctors. At his mom. No, not his mom. His father.

He wanted to scream at his father who was probably dumb and bed-ridden and shake him. Shake him so his shit brain could become normal again.  
But it wasn’t his father’s fault. And it wasn’t the doctor’s fault. It wasn’t his Nana’s fault or his Pops’s fault. It was no one’s fault.

He felt wired and paralyzed at the same time. He felt like doing so many things but felt trapped in his body. The torrent of emotions pounded in waves against the insides of his head.

Why was this happening? Why was everything falling apart? He didn’t want to go through these things or feel these things.

He felt like jumping into the ocean and drowning, letting the water take him down to the cold depths where he wouldn’t have to worry about anything. 

Except he didn’t want to drown in water but in brown liquor. He imagined its burn as it sizzled down his throat.

He felt himself hardening into ice and he wanted to feel warm again. Its all he wanted.

He thought he could feel the aching numbness of frostbite in his fingertips and he scrambled to his feet. He bounded down the stairs and stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. Keith stood at the sink rinsing the last of the dishes and putting them in the drying rack. He looked up at Lance a smiled warmly. Lance felt nothing.

“You wanna come to the bar with me?” he blurted before Keith could get a word out.

“Uh,” Keith said, slightly taken aback, “Sure. But…is everything okay?”

Lance strode over and touched Keith’s shoulder, leading him toward the front door. 

“It will be,”

 

Keith watched Lance chug the rest of his beer, finishing with a wet burp before plopping the glass down with a hard clatter. Lance gestured toward the bar tender who immediately came over and refilled his glass. Keith looked down at his own glass, still completely full. 

Lance swayed a little in his seat. Other people lounged about, playing pool in the far corner, chattering loudly with the bartender. One woman who sat across from them kept glancing at Keith. The whole place was dark, despite it only being late afternoon, and this made him uneasy. He wondered if he should’ve been trying to keep Lance in line. 

Suddenly Lance cleared his throat.

“Hey, Keith,” he began, “You know, I was thinking maybe you could stay with us for a little while,”

Keith smirked and shook his head. “Lance, I already said I was going to stay on longer,”

Lance took a gulp of his beer. “Well, what if you stayed for even longer than that?”

Keith looked up at Lance and narrowed his eyes. Lance was hunched over his glass and his eyes were half-closed. He wondered how tipsy he really was.

“What, you mean like--?”

Lance shrugged, taking another sip.

Keith frowned. “I don’t know, Lance,”

“What’s the big deal? You said this place was the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen, and you like my parents, and they fucking love you,”

“Yeah, but…” Keith said, chewing his lip. He looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear what they were saying.

“But what? We could work on the farm together. And then at night, we could eat together, take baths…”

“Lance…” Keith whispered, trying to get Lance to lower his voice.

“We could…sleep together,” Lance continued languidly.

“Lance,”

“You ever fuck while intoxicated, Keith?”

“Lance,” Keith hissed.

“Hey! I’m just kidding! Kind of. Anyway, what’s keeping you from staying here?”

“Well, for one thing, Shiro wouldn’t appreciate it if I fucked off here suddenly for good,”

Lance’s face fell. “Oh,”

“It already sucks that I left him home alone like that,”

Lance grunted and chugged half of what was left of his beer. He swirled the brown liquid in the glass before placing it back down on the counter.

Keith gazed at the side of Lance’s face. He sighed and reached a hand toward him.

“Lance, I’m—”

“Why’d you come here in the first?” Lance blurted. “You said you came here to find your family, but you said your mom was Celtic or whatever,”

Keith stopped, then dropped his hand onto his knee. “Well, I did some digging back in the states and I found a lead that pointed here,”

“So you came to work for my family for what?”

“I…wanted to work so I could still support Shiro while I was gone. Plus I thought maybe I could have somewhere to start looking—W-why are we talking about this?”

Lance pursed his lips, glaring into the glass. “So you weren’t planning on being here that long anyway,”

“I mean, your parents only hired me out for a week,”

Lance shook his head. “Damn. And then here I am, fucking all that up,”

“Hey,” Keith said. “That’s not true. Yes, I was only going to stay for a week and then continue my search for my mom. But then I met you,” and then his voice softened. “And it was...pure chance! I met you, and all I had to do was be in the right place at the right time,”

Lance snorted. “Yeah, found a good job with good food, good views, and a good fuck? You’ve really hit the jackpot,”

Keith hit his fist on the counter. “Okay, what’s your deal?”

Just then, the bell above the door jingled as a group of people came in. Lance glanced up to see the people and immediately scowled. Keith looked back too. A big dark skinned dude in a bright yellow shirt with an orange head band held the door open as four girls and a guy came through. One girl was small with short red hair, pale skin and glasses. The other guy was practically her twin if it weren’t for his height and lack of spectacles. 

One of the other girls was also pale, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Another was tan, with brown hair that faded to teal at the tips. The last girl was dark skinned with black hair piled up into a puff on the top of her head, and she was absolutely beautiful. She caught sight of Lance and motioned for the others to follow her line of sight. They all froze and then led her over to a booth on the other side of bar. 

“Who are those guys?” Keith asked.

Lance only grumbled in response.

“Okay, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you, or what?”

Lance continued to stare into his cup and said nothing.

Keith’s nostrils flared. “Look, I can’t stay here forever,”

“I’m not asking you that,” Lance whined.

“No, but you’re asking me to stay here for a long time, and I just can’t,”

Lance scowled. “Fine,”

“...Lance,”

“Okay!” he said. “I heard you,”

Keith searched Lance’s face, trying to read his eyes. Lance chugged the rest of his beer and called the bartender over. “Three shots please. Two for me and one for my friend—”

“I think I’ll just stick to this one for now,” Keith interjected.

Lance frowned. “Fine. More for me,”

The bartender filled his glass and gave him his three shots. They sat in silence for a long time as Lance knocked each back one by one. Keith nursed his beer glass, brooding. It stayed full.

After some time, the bar was beginning to get louder as more patrons entered the place. Keith looked over at the people across the bar in the booth. They were laughing and talking animatedly with each other. He wondered why Lance had beef with them.

He caught the woman across from him staring again and this time she smirked, lifting her glass up to him. He looked away.

After downing the last of his shots, Lance slapped his hands on the counter and stood up. His legs were wobbly and he swayed on his feet.

“I’m going out for some fresh air,” he slurred and stumbled toward the door before Keith could stop him.

Keith watched him walk away, more than a little concerned. He cursed himself and sipped at his beer. He always hated the taste of alcohol. It burned his insides.

 

Lance shoved the door open and let it slam shut behind him. The world around him was swimming and he felt very far away. He slumped against the side of the building and angrily pulled out his phone. A new message from his sister Veronica:

Sorry I haven’t been able to talk. Heard what happened to dad. Wanna chat?

He huffed and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. Stupid Keith, he thought. Feeling the effects of his last shot, he let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes. He stood there for a long time.

“Lance?” a woman’s voice chimed.

His eyes burst open and he immediately stood up straight—as best he could. She stood in front of him looking dazzling in a pink sun dress, her dark skin radiant, her brown eyes twinkling in the twilight. She smiled at him sweetly and he felt his heart flutter.

“Allura!” he gasped, trying desperately to control his speech.

She pulled him into a tight embrace and he became dizzy with the feel of her touch. “It’s so nice to see you! I saw you come out here and I thought it might be a good time to catch you before you leave,”

“Oh, I’m not leaving!” he said. “I, uh, just came out here for some air,”

“Oh, okay,” she said. “So, how have you been?”

“Eh, you know." he said, stumbling forward, "Cuttin’ loose, catchin’ waves, chasin’ babes,” 

She caught him and set him upright, giggling. “Yes, same old, same old I suppose,”

“Haha, for sure,”

She sighed. “We’ve missed you, Lance,” she said meaningfully.

Lance grew giddy. He smiled dumbly and let himself gaze into her eyes.

 

Keith sat alone at the bar, using a cocktail straw to stir his beer. He watched the little whirlpool spin around, catching the bubbles in its wake.

He sighed. Where was Lance?

He felt eyes on him again and looked up to where the lady across from him had been sitting. She was gone.

“Hey,” a voice said right next to him.

He jumped a little, turning to face whoever was beside him. It was the woman. She stirred her finger in her margarita and gazed at him. A small smile played on her lips.

His brows furrowed and he turned away, hunching over his drink.

“Can I help you?”

“You don’t look like you’re from around here,” she said.

“No ma’am,”

“Where you from?”

Keith grew silent. He took a sip of his beer. Gross.

She sniffed. “I saw you from across the way, thought I’d come say hello,”

Keith looked at her out the side of his eye. “Hello,”

She laughed. “You’re cute. What’s your name, baby?”

Keith grunted, keeping his gaze low. 

“Ah, you’re not gonna tell me your name?”

“I was told not to talk to strangers,”

“Well if you tell me your name, we won’t be strangers anymore,”

Keith looked at her. She was very pretty. He frowned.

“Listen…”

“Hey!” a booming voice barked across the bar. A big man lumbered toward Keith with a mean look on his face.

“Hi?” Keith replied.

“You talking to my girl?” the man growled.

Keith looked at the man, then looked at the woman. She was shifting away. He rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered.

 

Lance watched Allura laugh heartily as they reminisced about their days in high school.

“Oh, Lance,” she sighed. “You haven’t changed a bit!”

“Eh, I’m funny when I’m drunk,”

She tilted her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re just funny period,”

Lance’s heart fluttered again and he didn’t mind that the world was spinning. “So, how have you been?” he chimed.

She blinked in surprise but answered anyway. “Oh well, things have been okay. I’ve been so busy at uni, I’ve barely had time to relax. This trip was sorely needed,”

Lance watched her lips move. “Busy, huh?”

“Yes, I haven’t even been able to spend time with our friends. This is the first time we’ve been able to have fun together since last semester,”

Lance thought about their group of friends probably waiting for Allura in the bar. He briefly wondered what it would be like if they met Keith. Then he grew indignant at the thought of Keith.

“What about…” he said, forcing himself to say his name, “Lotor?”

Allura stiffened, inhaling deeply, and looked away. “Yes, I haven’t seen him since last semester either,” she said, her voice hard.

Lance perked up. “Really?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, well, things between he and I are…over,”

Lance stumbled closer to her, trying to maintain his footing. “Really?” he gasped.

She eyed him suspiciously but continued. “Yes. I suppose he wasn’t who he seemed.” She hugged herself. “I should have listened to you and Pidge. You both warned me, but I didn’t listen,”

Lance’s heart sank and he stood closer to her. “No, Allura, don’t be sad…” he slurred. He wobbled a bit.

She looked up at him. “Lance? Are you--?

But Lance caught her off as his lips came crashing down on hers.

 

Keith barely registered the woman to his side yelling as he stared down at the man on the ground. He writhed in pain holding his face. The bartender screamed at Keith to leave so he stormed out. He hoped Lance was still outside because he was seething with rage.

And then he did see Lance. But Lance wasn’t alone. 

He only stood for a second, watching the couple kiss before angrily stomping away. He walked at a clipped pace, forcing his legs to move as fast as they could without all out sprinting. He made it to a bus station and got on just as it was leaving. He plopped down and yanked his fingers through his hair. He tried desperately to hold in the white hot fury in his mind. 

And the tears in his eyes.

 

Lance felt himself move before he realized what he was doing and he barely registered the feeling of her lips before he was violently shoved back.

“Lance!” she cried. “Are you kidding me?”

Lance stumbled back and failed to keep himself upright. He hit the ground hard and grew dizzy with the fall.

“Ugh! I can’t believe you would do such a thing! What is the matter with you?”

He rolled over and tried crawling toward her. “’m sorry, ‘llura,”

She scoffed. “How drunk are you? God, I was wrong, Lance, you have changed,”

“Wait—” he said, then his stomach heaved.

“What’s wrong with you?” she yelled. Then watched in horror as he retched onto her feet.

He rolled back onto his backside and sat with his back against the wall. He could barely keep his eyes open as he let his head lull to the side. She raged above him, kicking the mess from her feet. He started to drift.

“Lance! Lance?” he heard her say. But she sounded far away.

A cool hand touched his cheek and he reached up to cup it. “Keith…” he murmured.

“Dear god, Lance, how much have you had to drink?” Allura yelled. “That’s it, I’m taking you home. Come on, stand up,”

Lance felt himself being pulled up and then being leaned against a body. His arm was thrown around slim shoulders and as they started moving, he struggled to make his feet work.

“Come on, Lance, stay with me,”

She dragged him into the bar and Lance was briefly overwhelmed by the sudden noise.

“Hunk! Pidge!” she shouted.

“Allura! You missed it! Some guy with a mullet just knocked another dude out!” Pidge yelled, running over to them before stopping abruptly. “Why do you have Lance?”

“It’s a long story,”

“What’s wrong with him?” Hunk said, coming up from behind.

“He’s really drunk. He just vomited outside, and I think he’s fading fast,”

Lance felt the familiar warmth of Hunk’s arm as it moved under his shoulder and supported his other side.

“We have to get him out of here right now,” Pidge said. “Hunk see if he has any keys on him,”

“Hey, buddy, did you drive here?” Hunk said softly into Lance’s ear.

Lance furrowed his brow. “Where’s Keith?” he slurred.

“I don’t know who that is,” Hunk replied.

“Check his back pocket,” Pidge said.

Hunk dug into Lance’s back pocket and pulled out his phone and his keys. They began hoisting him toward the door. Suddenly Lance dug his feet into the ground and tried to wrestle himself free.

“Keith!” he wailed.

“Who’s Keith?” Pidge said.

“It doesn’t matter, we have to leave,” Allura said.

Pidge nodded. “Right. Matt, stay with Nyma and Romelle. Hopefully we’ll be back later,”

And with that, they headed out the door. Lance felt himself practically being dragged. They somehow found his car and stuffed him in, and before he knew it they were zooming away. Hunk and Pidge spoke hurriedly in the front seats, trying to remember the way to his grandparents’ house. Allura held him up, trying to keep him steady.

They were almost all the way up the hill when the truck abruptly stopped. Lance nearly threw up again, and hazily lifted his head to see what was wrong. In front of them stood a figure with pale skin and long, dark hair. Pidge reached over Hunk and honked the car horn.

“Keith!” Lance yelled and scrambled out the car before Allura could stop him.

“Lance, wait!” she called after him.

But Lance was already stumbling toward him. The world seemed to be teetering around him, but his absolute focus was only on Keith. He finally fell into him and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Keith…”

But to his surprise, Keith shoved him off and he stumbled back until he backed into the front of the truck.

“Stay away from me Lance,” Keith barked. His face was twisted into a sneer. 

Lance looked at him confused and reached out for him. “Keith...,” he repeated.

“You ask me to stay, but then you leave for someone else?” Keith yelled. “And look, you’re bringing her home with you! Along with some other new friends!”

Lance shook his head. “Keith…that’s not—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” he roared. “I’m leaving,” and with that, he stomped around the truck and stalked away. It was then Lance realized he’d had his duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“Keith,” he whispered to himself before crumpling to the ground.

“Lance!” he heard someone shriek but didn’t care. The last thing he remembered was the headlights of the truck casting a blinding beam above his face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath. Gotta pick up the pieces.

Lance’s mind dragged itself into consciousness before he could open his eyes. He felt the weight of his hangover like the weight of death all over his body. He rolled onto his back, and groaned, rubbing his eyes. The light of the sun pierced his retinas as if as punishment. He dropped his arms back down, only then registering the comforter on and around him. He stared up at his bedroom ceiling. The little glow in the dark stars he stuck there years ago laid flat and still above him. Like the indifferent universe.

Suddenly the events of the night before came rushing back and he sat up in a flash. But the sudden movement sent a stabbing pain zinging throughout his skull and he held his head in his hands. He struggled to catch his breath as the hazy memories flitted through. He didn’t want to believe it, but it had to be true; otherwise he’d have been laying in his bed beside him.

Keith.

He was gone.

The realization of which sent a deep chill through Lance’s body, the likes of which he’d never felt before; at least not since his father’s first stroke.

A buzzing noise broke him from his thoughts momentarily and he looked over at his bedside table. Under the lamp was his phone charging, a glass of water and a note. He hurriedly grabbed the note.

Sorry we couldn’t stay, had to catch our flight. PLEASE for the love of God, answer the phone when we call!!! Take care of yourself. –The Squad

Lance stared down at the note, mulling over feelings of both gratitude and disappointment. He carefully folded the note and placed it back on the table. He took his phone from its charger and read through the notifications. 

Two missed calls from Veronica and one from his mother. He tapped over to the calling app when another call came in from his mother. He immediately picked up.

“Hello?”

A slight pause. “Good, you’re awake,” she said.

“Yeah, sorry about that,”

“It’s fine, Lance. I just wanted to let you know that I was bringing Papa home today. We’re on our way back now. We should be pulling up in about two minutes,”

Lance immediately stood up, ignoring the shooting pain in his head, and walked to the bathroom.

“You’re coming home? Right now?”

“Yes, mijo, please be ready when we get there,”

“Okay, Mama,” he said putting her on speaker and setting the phone on the sink.

“Alright,” she replied, then there was a beat of silence. “So…Keith left,”

Lance paused, his toothbrush floating midway to his mouth. He sighed. “Yeah,”

“Yes, he called me last night from the house phone and then he came to the hospital,”

“He was there?” he shouted.

“Yes, he came to pick up my referral letter for him and he said goodbye to Papa,” then she huffed. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

Lance stayed silent, staring at himself in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes were extra prominent.

He heard his mother sigh. “What are we going to do now, Lance?”

He set his jaw. “We’ll manage,” he said.

They bid each other farewell and Lance quickly finished brushing his teeth.

 

Fully dressed, Lance stood in the doorway of the front door and watched his mother pull into the front yard with the SUV. She parked close enough to the door and hopped out, popping the trunk as she went. Lance went around to the back and pulled the folded wheelchair from the trunk. His mother opened the passenger door and there sat his father. His hands were folded in his lap and his jaw was set crooked. He leaned against the seat belt and looked at Lance with a reluctant gaze.

Lance steeled himself and set the wheelchair beside the car. He unbuckled his father and hoisted him up with his shoulder, carefully sitting him down into the wheelchair. His father was like dead weight and he smelled like hospital. He kept his face stoic as he wheeled his father into the house.

 

Lance filled a plastic cup with water from the pitcher in the fridge and stuck a straw in it. He brought it over to his father while his mother fit a napkin into his shirt. She scooped up a spoon full of stew and fed it into his mouth. 

Lance sat down on his father’s other side, watching as his mother fed him. His father’s jaw seemed to refuse to work on one side, and it took obvious effort to chew.

His father grunted and started reaching for his water. Lance immediately picked it up and helped guide it to his mouth. His father furrowed his brow, sucking on the straw, trying to hold the cup himself. Lance let him take it.

“You got it?” he asked.

But then suddenly the cup fell from both their hands, tumbling to the ground, spilling water everywhere. His father growled, and Lance hastily took some napkins from the table and sopped up the mess.

“I’m sorry!” he cried.

“Lance, it’s okay,” his mother said.

“Here, I’ll clean it up.”

“Lance!” she yelled. He finally looked up. “Just…go take care of the animals.”

Lance clenched his teeth but stood up, placing the empty cup on the table. He turned and headed for the door, sticking his feet in his boots and grabbing his keys.

“And clear out that RV while you’re at it,” she called after him.

He said nothing and slammed the door shut behind him.

 

The rest of the day, Lance worked on the barn, feeding the animals, hauling around bales of hay, and cleaning out their living quarters. He drove up to the sheep and did the same. He also installed rods of wood into the ground all along the stonewall as a reinforcement. 

He worked and worked all day long; the whole time he tried to bury his thoughts of Him. He tried not to imagine His face as he tended to the animals, ignored His voice in the wind as he stood on top of the hill. After installing the last of the rods, he looked out over the horizon. He saw what He’d seen: the beautiful rolling hills and the soft green of the grass going for acres and acres, the bright blue of the sky the faded into soft lavender and pink and orange as the sun set. He sighed and walked back to the truck.

He drove back down to the house and by then the sun had already dipped below the land. He cut off the engine and sat in the driver’s seat. He felt an ache deep in his muscles and he realized he had forgotten to come in for lunch. He was more tired than he ever felt in his life. Finally, he hopped out of the truck and walked into the house. 

He stopped in the doorway when he saw his father sitting at the kitchen table. His head was rolled forward, and he was snoring. Lance stood there silent but jumped when the door shut behind him. His father woke up startled, grunting and looking around wildly. His gaze finally settled on Lance and he became calm, if not slightly bemused.

Lance cleared his throat and set to kicking his shoes off. His father grunted.

“Done…work…?” he rasped, his voice gruff.

Lance swallowed. “Yeah,”

His father nodded. “Clear…trailer…?”

Lance paused, closing his eyes in frustration. “I’ll do that right now,” he said, stuffing his feet back into his shoes.

His father gave him a look but said nothing. Lance looked away, stepping back out the door.

Lance dragged his feet on his way to the RV. He gazed at it as it loomed over him in the near-darkness, still and silent. He stopped at its door and hesitated. He took a steadying breath before opening it.

He stepped inside, flipping on the light as he went. He stood in the warm glow as he looked around. The comforter, sheets, and blankets were tumbled about and the pillows were spread all over the bed and the floor. It was just as he’d left it the last time he’d been in here with Him.

Suddenly a rage bubbled up inside him and he ripped the blankets from the bed, roaring as he did so. He kicked a pillow that was on the floor and slammed his fists onto the bed, crumpling to his knees. He sat there, arms stretched out on the mattress, face buried in the fabric. He trembled with anger.

Then slowly he turned and slid his back down the side of the bed, sitting on the floor. He let his head fall back against it and he screwed his eyes shut, willing the tears that threatened to fall to stay inside. His breath was shaky.

He opened his eyes and glared at the mess around him. Then he spotted something red in the corner of his eyes and looked toward it. The comforter and pillows sported a faded floral pattern with pink and yellow flowers but the piece of fabric that was stuffed in the corner under the bed was a deep crimson. 

He leaned over and pulled it out, examining it curiously. It smelled like earth and sweat.

Keith’s sweat.

He stared at it for a long time, his chest aching. He held it up to his face and inhaled deeply, allowing himself to indulge briefly. Then, he quickly stuffed it into his pocket and scrambled to his feet. He picked up all the pillows and stuffed them into the drawer under the bed. Then he gathered the rest of the bedding and walked out of the RV.

Rather than go through the kitchen again, he carried his load to the back of the house where the laundry was done. He dumped everything into a basket filled with dirty closed and was about to leave when he heard a light whimper. 

He peaked around the corner again and spotted his mother sitting on an upturned basket under the clothes lines. He listened.

“Sí, Mama,” she whispered into her phone. Her back was to him, but her voice sounded wet. She wiped her face and whimpered again. “Sí, yo sé, Mama,” she said, and continued speaking into her phone. She described what happened to his father. Her voice became thick as she spoke and she sniffled constantly, wiping her face and combing her fingers through her hair.

“And Lance!” she cried, and Lance froze. He waited for her to continue but she only sniffed. He held his breath.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she murmured. Her voice cracked, and her shoulders shook silently. She covered her hand with her face.

A lump formed in Lance’s throat. He turned back behind the corner and let his back hit the wall on the side of the house. He stared up into the sky, willing the tears back into his eyes. 

That was the first time in a long time he’d heard his mother that broken. It shook him to his core. He balled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw. He decided he never wanted to hear her like that again.

Then, he promptly turned on his heels and walked into the house.

 

 

Keith yawned loudly. He was so tired he was sure that the next time he blinked he wouldn’t wake up till the next morning. But for some reason, he couldn’t sleep. He tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in his gut, picturing instead the bed he hoped to find. He also tried to ignore the simmering rage inside him as he glared out the window.

He’d only had enough money for another bus ticket, a piece of bread, and a call on a pay phone. The rest of the money he wanted to save so he could send it to the states. To Shiro.

The smell of Tabasco, black beans, and shredded beef suddenly wafted into the bus as they whizzed by a restaurant and he hunched over in his seat, fuming. He’d never eat that shit again, he thought angrily; then in a more sadistic tone, Guess I’ll just become vegan.

He growled under his breath and folded his arms over his chest. He went over the name and address in his head for the hundredth time. He was glad he called ahead; he couldn’t believe a place like that offered temporary board. He thought he hit the jackpot.

He didn’t though. He let himself sag in the seat. He closed his eyes, trying to force sleep to take him; but all he saw were flames.

 

 

Lance woke up early the next morning. He checked his phone, seeing texts from Hunk, Pidge, Allura, and Veronica. He responded to Veronica but hesitated with the others. He decided to respond to Hunk only, assuring him he’d talk to him later. The sun had barely risen, and he was already washed, dressed, and tip toeing downstairs. He tried to be as quiet as possible pulling out a skillet from the cupboard and the eggs from the fridge. He quickly scrambled them, seasoning them to taste and scraped some into a plate. His shoulders rose when he heard his mother yawn behind him.

“Lance?” she murmured. “What are you doing?”

“Just making breakfast,” He replied, setting the plate down in front of her as she sat down. She eyed him worriedly but took the fork when he handed it to her. He turned back to the stove and scraped more eggs into his own plate. He sat down across from her and started to eat.

She took a small bite, then relaxed her face. “Today’s gonna be pretty busy,” she said. “The holiday is tomorrow,”

“Yeah, for sure,” he said.

She sighed. “I have to get the house clean, and then head to the market, and probably get started on the cooking after that. And then, there’s your father—”

“I can go to the market,” Lance interjected.

She paused and looked up at him. He stared back for a moment before looking down and focusing on his food. “You can?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Just…write down everything you need,”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded vigorously. “Yeah,”

She blinked slowly, tilting her head. Then she inhaled deeply. “Okay. Hand me a pen and paper,”

He got up and did just that, standing over her shoulder as she scrawled out the list of ingredients. Finished, she handed it to him and he stuffed it in his pocket as he sat down. He pulled out his phone and checked the time, then quickly scarfed down the rest of his eggs. He dumped the plate in the sink, grabbed his keys from the hook beside the door and waved to his mother.

“I’ll be back soon,” he called as he closed the door behind him. Then he walked briskly toward the truck.

The rest of the morning he spent working on the barn and up with the sheep. He fed all the animals, cleared out the pens where the cows were, swept out the barn, milked the cows, led the sheep down the hill, and mowed the grass. He even did minor maintenance on various parts of the fence and on the stone wall on top of the hill.

When he drove back down, the sun was high in the sky and his shirt stuck to his body with sweat. He stopped by the house, striding in with the truck still running, downed a cup of water and grabbed a slice of bread before anyone could so anything. His mother, who stood at the counter cutting up a sandwich and his father who sat at the table, stared at Lance in bewilderment as he stepped back out into the heat.

Lance then drove down to the market, which was busy and crowded. He walked inside, only letting himself revel in the breeze from the multiple fans for a second before getting to work. He took out his mother’s list, grabbed a basket and went on. 

He went up and down the stalls, checking expiration dates, squeezing produce for freshness, searching for the best price. When he’d gotten everything, the sun had switched sides in the sky. He carried everything in both hands and took it to the car. He hoisted the bags into the passenger seat, then hopped in and drove back towards his house.

He kicked open the front door, startling his father. He whispered an apology and set the groceries on the kitchen table. His mother appeared in the doorway from the living room, looking around wildly.

“What is all this noise?” she demanded.

“Sorry, sorry,” he repeated. He grunted as he began putting away the groceries.

She crossed her arms. “Did you get everything I asked?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out her list with everything crossed out. “I even got a discount on the pork,”

She tilted her head. “Discount?” then she gasped. “Oh no, mijo, I forgot to give you the money!” she shook her head. “How much was everything?”

He frowned. “Don’t worry about it Ma, I had it,”

“Lance—”

“It’s fine,” he said, waving her off. “Did you need help with anything else?”

She eyed him wearily. “I was just dusting in the living room. I’ll probably vacuum and then do a couple loads of laundry. And then the bathroom needs to be cleaned—”

“I can do something,” he said, turning to face her. “Maybe…I can clean the bathroom…? And if you need help with the laundry, you can let me know,”

She gawked at him, standing still in her spot in the doorway. She glanced at his father, who also stared at Lance. She hesitated, running her fingers through her hair. “Okay…” she said finally, “that would be…really helpful—”

Then Lance turned, stuffing the empty grocery bags in the cabinet under the sink and promptly went upstairs. His mother stared after him.

Lance set to work, cleaning the sink, scrubbing the toilet—inside and out—washing out the tub, and cleaning the shower. Then he swept the floor and even mopped. As he was spraying down the mirror, he thought he might clean the windows too. He might as well.

As soon as he was done in the bathroom, he took the window spray and the cloth he was using and went outside. He started on the window above the kitchen sink and continued all along the first floor. When he got to one of the ones that looked into the living room, he spotted his mother vacuuming. He took a breath then sprayed down the window. He tried to stay focused, wiping off the suds from the spray. He barely noticed her face which suddenly appeared. She made a funny face and he stopped.

There was a numbness inside him, a void he couldn’t face. He could only smile weakly as he watched her silently giggle. He quickly moved on to the next window, burying his feelings in his work. He ignored the disappointment in her eyes.

After finishing the downstairs windows, he went back inside and all the way upstairs and did those. When he came back down, his mother had started the laundry, so he went out to the back of the house and started removing the dry clothes from the clothes line. She paused washing the garment she had as she bent over the water basin. She watched him for a moment, but let him be, returning to the clothes.

By the time they were done with the laundry, the sun had started to set. Lance’s hands felt dry and cracked and his mind was buzzing. His body ached like it did the day before and his eyes were tired. He followed his mother into the house.

“Mi amor,” he heard her call. “I think it’s time for a bath,” then she walked into the living room and wheeled his father to the bottom of the stairs. Lance followed them, helping his mother lift his father out if his wheelchair and supporting him as he walked up the stairs. 

It was a slow process and his father grunted with each strangled step. Lance saw the sweat begin to bead on his forehead and his breath became haggard with effort. Lance thought for a moment as he held up his father’s arm. Then he stepped forward, wrapping his father’s arm around his shoulder and stooping in front of him.

“Here, I’ll carry you,” he said.

His father growled in protest.

“Lance, that’s not—”

“Please. Just…trust me,” 

His mother hesitated. His father grunted behind him, trying to shift around. Then his mother patted his father’s shoulder and whispered. “Go on, Leandro,”

His father grunted again, but then slowly let his weight fall onto Lance’s back. Lance’s legs buckled slightly but he held fast. His father shakily wrapped both arms around his shoulders and Lance hunched forward. He steadily stepped forward, climbing the stairs with his father on his back, carrying him up to the bathroom. His mother stood below, watching them go in astonishment. Then she climbed up after them.

 

Lance’s mother ran the bath water and dropped soap into the water while Lance helped his father stand up. He and his mother then stripped him down. His father leaned heavily on him as Lance lowered him into the sudsy water. Once the water was high enough, his mother turned it off and they both knelt down beside the tub.

His mother grabbed the bar of soap and a wash cloth and began lathering his father’s back. Lance sat and watched. 

Suddenly she huffed. “Ay, it’s getting so late, I don’t know how much cooking I’ll be able to do after this,”

“I can help you cook,” Lance said.

“Hm, thank you, Lance,” she replied. “But it’ll still be late when we start. Just letting you know,”

Lance thought for a moment, watching his mother lift one of his father’s arms and washing it. 

“I can do this,” he said, touching his mother’s shoulder. “And then you can get started on the food,”

She stopped and looked at him. “Lance…”

“Ma,” he said, maintaining eye contact. “I can do this,”

She frowned, then looked at his father. He leaned against the wall looking at Lance, then looked at her. He didn’t protest.

She sighed and handed Lance the soapy washcloth. “Alright,” she said, then stood up and walked out of the room. Then there was silence.

Lance looked at his father who seemed to be staring straight ahead. Then, tentatively he took him and leaned him back slightly to gain access to his chest. He dunked the wash cloth in the sudsy water and began to bathe him.

His movements were slow and methodical, his face set in a stony expression as he propped himself up with one hand on the rim of the tub and worked with the other. His father grunted, and Lance slowed his movements even more.

“You done…barn?” his father said, his voice gruff and slow.

“Yeah,” he said, his heart hammering in his chest.

His father nodded. “And that…stone wall?”

“Yeah, Papa,” he breathed.

“You…going out…tonight?”

Lance paused, shaking his head. His father nodded again and settled further into the tub. He let Lance bathe him in silence.

Finally, Lance rinsed off the rest of the suds and then got an idea.

“Hey…dad,” he said. “You wanna chill in here for a bit? Relax?”

His father grunted and shrugged.

“Okay, yeah. I can also, uh…give you a face mask?”

His father frowned. “Face…mask…?”

“Yeah! Don’t worry it’s really relaxing,” he said, standing and moving to the sink. “Veronica and I used to do them all the time,”

His father’s eyes widened and seemed to fill with panic. “Veronica…” he choked. Lance paused, but then continued pulling the jar from the cabinet and squatted down next to the tub again.

He unscrewed the cap and dipped his finger inside. His father pulled back, eyeing the red goo suspiciously.

“It’s just gonna make your skin soft,” Lance said. “May I? Please?”

His father stared at him for a long time. Finally, he jutted his face forward slightly and allowed Lance to slather the muck onto his face. Lance struggled to control his shaking hand as he worked the mask all over. He almost couldn’t believe he’d said yes. He spread it all around in a thin, even layer. When he was finished, he screwed the top back on and set it on the rim of the tub.

“There,” he said. “Now, you can just sit here and relax for a little while,”

His father inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Lance sat down beside the tub and rested his arm on top, resigning himself to sit in silence. Then to his surprise, his father plopped his hand on top of his arm and held it there.

He looked up at him, confused. His father’s eyes were still closed.

“Thank…you,” his father murmured, squeezing his arm. Then he dragged his hand back into the water.

Lance stared at him, barely breathing, his heart drilling away. He blinked and looked away, leaning his head against the wall and staring up at the ceiling.

 

Lance leaped down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. He sat down at the table just as his mother set down some vegetables, a cutting board, and a knife in front of him.

“You need these chopped?” he said picking up the knife.

“That would be nice,” she replied. “How’s Papa?”

He began chopping. “Just put him to bed,”

“Thank you, mijo, I really appreciate it,”

He smiled a small smile, then turned to focus on the vegetables. She continued working at the stove, preparing a bird for roasting. They fell into silence.

Lance chopped up the carrots and the onions and the peppers, placing the pieces in a nearby bowl and setting the scraps aside. He briefly remembered the taste of a certain someone’s cooking. Then he frowned, pushing the thought out of his head. His mother cleared her throat.

“So…” she began, “It’s been a long time since you’ve helped me in the kitchen,”

He smirked. “Yeah, it has,”

“I remember you used to beg me to let you help. And then I used to have to smack your hand away when you tried to pick at the food,”

Lance chuckled. “Yeah. You used to get so mad,”

“Yes. But you used to make us the most delicious cookies. I was surprised you did so well at such a young age,”

Lance thought for a moment, his smile falling. “Mama, that wasn’t me,”

“It wasn’t? Hm. I thought—Oh, of course! It was Veron—” 

And then she froze.

Lance slowed his chopping, eyeing her from the side. Her shoulders bunched up and she seemed stuck in place. Then she shook herself out and returned to furiously preparing the bird.

Lance bit his lip. “Have you…spoken to her? Recently?”

“No,” she said, her voice cracking.

He took a deep breath. “I remember her and Papa used to fight all the time. What was that all about?”

She scoffed. “I don’t know, Lance, it was a long time ago. I don’t want to talk about this right now,”

Lance frowned. “Okay…”

They continued in silence.

Lance finished chopping and put the bowl of chopped vegetables on the counter next to his mother.

“Thank you, mijo. You can go ahead and rest now,”

Lance pursed his lips. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll try and get some more work done. You need anymore help in here? Or maybe I can fix something? Or I can get the finances in order—”

She turned to face him fully and put her hands on her hips. “What are you running from?”

His blood went cold and he looked at her in slight terror. “N-nothing! I just want to get as much work done as possible,”

“You mean like your father,” she barked.

Lance stepped back as if hit with a blow. She blinked and turned away, seemingly horrified at her own self. She promptly took the bowl of vegetables from the counter and dumped some into the pan where the chicken was marinating. She stuffed it into the oven and slammed the door shut.

She gave Lance one last forlorn look before stomping up the stairs.

 

 

Keith pulled the lever, releasing the molten steel from the oven. Sweat poured down his face under his goggles and pooled on his back under his suit. The air was barely breathable.

Finally, the buzzer went off and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. They unmasked themselves, many unzipping their suits part way, and headed en masse towards the cafeteria. Keith took his own mask off and wiped his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. He silently cursed himself for leaving his handkerchief. He’d never see it ever again.

He glanced up at the manager’s office as he passed it. The manager stood at the window watching the workers mull past. She caught Keith staring and held his gaze steadily. Keith squared his shoulders, refusing to look away. She narrowed her eyes and her stare intensified. 

He growled and looked down. He didn’t want to start anything with her. He’d just started working there and it was already apparent he was on her shit list; she paid just a little bit too much attention to him.

He hunched his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets, following the crowd out the door.

 

 

Lance wasn’t two steps into his room when his phone began to buzz. He pulled it out and grimaced at the screen. Veronica was trying to facetime.

Lance’s heart began to race. He briefly considered letting it go. But he steeled himself and pressed answer.

Her image filled his screen. He gulped.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “You picked up. Cool,”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Sorry, things have been pretty…crazy,”

“Oh yeah, I totally get it,” she said, waving him off.

He pursed his lips, wondering how much to tell her. She looked the same; the same dark, curly hair, the same brown eyes, the same perpetually smug expression. But her eyes looked slightly red and puffy and her voice was a little off.

“So…how’s Papa?” she said, her voice unsure.

He shrugged. “I mean, he’s…he’s…” but he couldn’t get the words out. Finally, he sighed. “He’s not good, Nic,”

Her face fell, and she took a deep breath. “Can he move? Can he talk?”

He shook his head. “Barely,”

She looked up for a second as if searching the ceiling for an answer. Then Lance watched a tiny tear slip down her cheek. He stiffened.

“Lance…I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice high.

He frowned. “Nikki, no. Don’t…Don’t cry—”

“No, if only Papa and I were closer…” she sniffled. “But now…”

“You couldn’t have known this would happen,”

She shook her head vigorously. Then she looked to the side as if gazing at something off screen. Then she wiped her face and looked back at Lance with a grave expression.

“Lance, I have to tell you something,”

Lance sat up straighter, his body going cold. “W-what?”

“Well,” she said, rolling her eyes, and wiping her face again. “It’s more like I need to show you something,” She switched her camera to her other hand, took a deep breath, then showed her free hand to the camera.

Lance noticed her nail polish first, which was a bright blue. Then he saw the small ring on her finger.

He gasped and the cold that had settled into his body since the day before slightly lifted. He smiled. “Oh shit, dude. Are you foreal?”

She nodded, a fresh bout of tears falling down her cheeks. 

He chuckled, letting his smile reach his eyes. “I didn’t even know you were dating anybody. Is he there with you right now?”

She guffawed loudly, shaking her head. She motioned to someone to the side of her and shifted to accommodate them.

A beautiful woman with dark skin and long dreadlocks sheepishly looked into the camera. She smiled and waved. 

“Hi, Lance,”

Lance’s eyes widened, and his smile fell. He blinked slowly, struggling to take in the picture in front of him.

“This is Makeda, Lance. I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner, I was just…scared of how you’d react,” She put her arm around Makeda’s waist. “We’re getting married,”

Lance stared at them together, his mouth agape. Then slowly his mouth spread into a smile, little giggles eeking out as it did so. Veronica’s face filled with panic and Makeda looked to her for guidance.

“Oh my god,” he squeaked, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. 

Veronica set her jaw. “I know this is hard to take in so suddenly, Lance,” she began. “But this is who I am. And I’m not gonna hide it anymore. I’m gay,”

Lance snorted. “Me too!” he shouted, then quickly covered his mouth.

She gasped. “What?”

“Shhh!” he hissed, getting up to close his bedroom door. “Well, actually bi,”

She squealed and grabbed her phone with both hands. “Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He chuckled. “The same reason you didn’t tell me,”

She beamed. “God, this is so great. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long. This is actually why I couldn’t facetime you the other day, because—”

“Because you were too busy getting engaged?” Lance finished.

Makeda chimed in. “That’s sort of my fault. I took her out on a surprise date and that’s when I proposed,”

“Wow,” Lance breathed. “So…when did you know?”

She thought for a moment while Makeda shifted out of frame. “Well…I think it was at the end of my junior year. I had a best friend that I had a crush on and we sort of had a fling that summer. I mean, it’s always been there, but that’s when I realized. I didn’t tell our parents until later that fall. Have you told them about you?”

Lance shook his head. Then he frowned. “Is…is that why you and Papa started fighting all the time?”

Veronica’s eyes became sad and she grew quiet. “Yes, Lance,” she whispered.

Lance sat back on his bed and laid on his pillows. 

She looked at him with pleading eyes. “They didn’t take it well, Lance. They made me keep it a secret and things between me and Papa were never the same. So, when it was time for me to go to college…I never looked back,”

Lance dragged his hand down his face. “Damn dude,”

Veronica shook her head. “I wanted to tell you, Lance. And I wanted to be there when dad got sick…But I was scared. I didn’t think he wanted me to be there. I’m so sorry, Lance,”

Lance gazed into his sister’s eyes and smiled weakly. “Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re happy. Have you told anyone else?”

She shook her head. “The only people who know are our friends here. But none of our family knows, not even Marco and Luis,”

“Do you think you’ll ever tell them? I mean, it’s gonna be hard to keep it a secret now if you’re engaged,”

She huffed. “I’ll tell them. Soon, I guess. But Lance,” she said, smiling, “I’m so glad I told you. Now I won’t feel so alone anymore,”

He scoffed. “Alone?”

“Yeah!” she said. “Do you know how hard it’s been trying to hide this from you? Not being able to share with you all the things happening in my life?”

He bit his lip, thinking. He reached back and scratched the back of his head.

“Now we can finally talk! So…how did you know?”

“Uh…” he said, pursing his lips. “Maybe another time. It’s getting pretty late,”

Her face fell. “Oh, sorry. I always forget about the time difference. Okay, well, guess I’ll talk to you soon. Real soon, Lance,”

“Yeah…for sure,”

She beamed at him again. “Thank you,”

“Nah,” he said shaking his head. “Thank you, Nic. Thank you for telling me,”

She giggled, and more tears fell down her cheeks. She wiped them away and then squealed again. “Okay! Guess I’ll let you go now,”

They bid each other farewell and clicked off. Lance dropped his phone onto his tummy and stared up at the ceiling. He felt heavy and light at the same time. A small part of him felt warm and fuzzy. He thought about his sister, and how she had to keep such a big secret for so long, long enough to get into a serious relationship.

He covered his face with his hands, trying to mentally hold on to the warm fuzzy feeling, keeping the chill at bay. He wanted to be happy for her, and he was. But something she said made him uneasy and a lump formed in his throat.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed again, and he picked it up. This time the name on the screen made him groan. His thumb hovered over the answer button, waiting until the last second to press it. Finally, he took a deep breath and tapped the screen. Hunk’s face filled the frame for the first time in almost a year.

Hunk’s face switched from surprise to genuine joy. “Hey, buddy!”

Lance smirked. “Hey, man,”

“It’s so good to see you!”

“Did he pick up?” a voice off screen shouted. Pidge pushed her way into the frame. “Hey, he’s alive!”

Lance chuckled weakly. “Barely,”

Hunk smiled a knowing smile.

“Hold on! I’ll get Allura on here too!” Pidge exclaimed.

“Wait, please—”

But she already dialed her. Her icon came up on screen and she picked up almost immediately. And there she was, her curly hair pulled back in a half up, half down style, her brown eyes twinkling, her smile bright.

“Hello, everyone!” she said. “Hi, Lance,”

“Hey,” he muttered, scratching the back of his head.

“How are you feeling?”

He sighed. “I’m…alright. Listen, guys. I’m…” he stopped, dragging his hand down his face. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, man,” Hunk said. “Everyone gets plastered every once in a while,”

“No,” Lance grumbled. “It’s not just that.” The words choked in his throat. “I’m…I’m sorry. For everything,”

They gazed at him with kind eyes, silently encouraging him to continue. He cursed himself under his breath and clenched his fist at his side. He felt the iciness inside him prickle, and he suddenly became angry. He squeezed his eyes shut. Then the ice suddenly unlocked a bit and he exhaled in a rush.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I’m sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I’m sorry I haven’t told you what’s been going on…”

His voice trailed off.

Pidge moved closer to the camera. “What…has been going on?”

Lance bit his lip. He took a deep breath…

And then he told them. He told them everything.

They watched him intently as he spoke, never interrupting. They listened to every detail, Hunk with wide eyes, Pidge rubbing her chin, Allura with a slight frown. When he was finished, they sat in silence. When he was finished, they sat in silence.

“Lance…” Allura said finally.

He couldn’t look up, couldn’t face her.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Pidge said.

He inhaled deeply. “I guess…I think a part of me…didn’t want to admit it was happening. It was so much…and it happened so fast. My whole life fell apart in about a year. Plus, you guys were already worried about college applications and entrance exams and fees. And Pidge, that was around the time your dad and brother disappeared. And Allura your father had just passed away. So, by the time it was time for me to leave it was too late,”

“Well, just know that if we had known, we’d have gotten on a plane with you and helped you work on the farm. Together,” Pidge declared. The others agreed vehemently. 

Lance smiled. “I think I was afraid of that, too,”

“Yeah well, that’s pretty shitty that you had to give up on your plans,” Pidge said.

“Yeah, are you sure no one else could help? It doesn’t seem fair of them to—”

“It wasn’t like that!” Lance blurted. “I-I volunteered. Please guys, please don’t blame my family, it’s not their fault. I think…I think that’s another reason why I didn’t tell you,”

“Because you didn’t want us to blame your family?” Pidge said.

“Because I didn’t want you to blame my father,” He answered. And suddenly it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “He’s not doing well, guys. And…and I think a part of him is ashamed,”

“Ashamed of what? Having two strokes?” Hunk asked.

“Ashamed…” Lance said. “Ashamed of not being able to provide for his family. Of having to rely on other people. On me. I think,” he paused, taking a breath, “I think he’s ashamed that I had to do this,”

They looked at him sadly. They fell into a heavy silence.

Then Allura drew closer to the screen and spoke. “I understand what you mean, Lance. And I understand how your father feels. But Lance, you can’t ignore your own feelings. You can’t just hide behind your work and pretend like everything is okay. Hiding these emotions, not being able to tell anyone, wasn’t that…you know…”

“Lonely?” Lance finished, a chill settling in his core.

Allura sighed. “We are your friends, Lance. We want to be there for you. Won’t you let us?” The others agreed, and Lance felt pressure behind his eyes. He closed them and took a deep breath before looking back at Allura.

“Yes, Allura. A-and I’m sorry for what I did. I don’t know what I was thinking,”

She gave him a knowing smile. “It’s alright Lance. I know you…care about me a lot. And I care about you too. I hope we can still be good friends after this, and I hope…that’s enough,”

He shook his head. “That’s more than enough,”

She beamed.

“Hey man,” Hunk said. “Thank you for finally telling us. And please let us know if you need anything,”

Lance chuckled. “Honestly, I’m surprised you guys still want to be my friends after this,”

Hunk shrugged. “We love you man. Always,”

Lance’s heart swelled, and a single tear fell from his eye. He wiped it before it could get too far down his cheek.

“Thank you,” he said.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything changes, but everything stays

Easter morning.

The gentle warmth of the sunlight wafted in through the window, illuminating the dust motes as they danced through the air.

Lance watched them. He laid in his bed beneath the covers, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes heavy. He was still. He felt okay. Despite the fact that his bed seemed bigger for some reason, empty. He sighed.

He looked out the window, the glass crystal clear. The smell of food gently rose from the kitchen and he inhaled deeply. Everything was crisp and clean, and all the chores had been done. There was nothing that could ruin the day and he knew he’d done enough to make sure of that, to make sure his mother had nothing to worry about. But still, he felt cold, melancholy. The house was very quiet.

Slowly, he rolled out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He showered and brushed his teeth, he washed his face and moisturized.

In his room, he pulled on tan linen pants and a white, short-sleeve button down with many pockets. As he buttoned up the shirt, he heard a noise like a gasp at the door. He turned toward it.

His mother stood in his doorway in her Sunday best. She covered her mouth with her hand, but she smiled with her eyes. She walked toward him hugging herself. Her eyes were wet.

“Oh, mijo,” she murmured.

Lance chuckled nervously. “Heh, I clean up pretty nice, don’t I?”

“You look just like your father,”

His smile fell a bit and he looked down at himself.

She sniffed and covered her face. Lance grasped her other hand.

“Mama--!”

“Lance,” she said, “I’m so sorry,”

He began to panic. He pulled her into his arms.

“Ma, no, it’s—”

“We’ve been too hard on you,”

His breath choked in his throat. No words could come out.

She pulled away and held his hands in hers. “I know you’ve been trying very hard, and you’ve done so much for us,”

Lance shook his head. “It’s fine Ma. You’ve had a difficult time dealing with Papa,”

“But it’s been difficult for you too, Lance. Hasn’t it? He’s your father,”

Again, Lance had no words. He didn’t know what to say.

She set her jaw and looked at him straight in the eye. “I want you to be happy Lance,”

Lance couldn’t believe his ears. The commanding look in his mother’s eyes forced him to nod.

“Yes, Mama,”

She nodded and wiped her eyes. She pulled him into her arms and he stood there wrapped in her warmth for a long time. He felt something stir in him, but he stayed quiet. She sniffed again, and he gently patted her back. She squeezed him tighter. He didn’t know what spurred her to react this way, but it had been a long time since he’d heard words like that. He felt himself thaw ever so slightly. 

He sensed that something in the air had changed. He snuggled closer to his mother and breathed into her warmth.

 

 

Keith sat in the plastic chair before the large metal desk. The woman in front of him silently searched through his file, frowning at the various papers spread across her desk.  
He watched her. She had harsh features and sharp eyes. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. It was otherwise totally neat besides a single piece that fell between her eyes. She wore a crisp white button down tucked into jeans with the sleeves rolled up to her forearm. The florescent overhead lights gave her pale skin a sort of green tinge.

Keith sighed loudly, slumping further in his chair. The stale air that blasted through the vents did nothing for the sweat that was beading up on his forehead.

She glanced up at him, then looked back down at the papers. Finally, she opened her mouth.

“Who is this person you put as your emergency contact? Takashi Shirogane?”

He straightened up. “He’s uh, he’s sort of my—I guess you could say he’s my roommate,”

She lifted an eyebrow at him, narrowing her eyes. Then she quickly gathered up the papers and stacked them together. “Keith, do you know why I called you in here?”

He slumped down into his chair again and fought the urge to roll his eyes. “No,”

“Well, for starters,” she said, then reached down into a drawer in front of her. “We found this in your locker,”

Keith watched as she placed his knife on top of the desk. His eyes widened, and he sat forward. 

“You went through my things? Isn’t that illegal? ...With all due respect,” he quickly added.

She shrugged. “Perhaps. But I had a good reason. You see, this knife used to be mine,”

He glared at her. “No, that is mine. I brought that here with me. I don’t know what happened to yours, but I didn’t steal anything—” 

“I know you didn’t steal it, Keith,” she interjected. “Please listen. That knife used to be mine before I gave it to your father,”

Keith sat back, shaking his head in confusion. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”

She sighed, and her face softened. “Keith…I gave this knife to your father before I left,”

Keith eyed her suspiciously, slight terror in his eyes. “How…how did you know my father?”

She sighed once more. “Keith…”

His eyes bulged as realization suddenly washed over him. “Are you…are you saying…you’re my…”

She nodded sadly. “Yes, Keith. I’m your mother,”

And suddenly the heat was sucked out of him and he sat frozen in his chair.

 

 

Lance hoisted the kitchen table up on its side and carried it out to the front lawn. His mother followed him with a stack of plates. When he set it down, she set them on top, and they went back and forth bringing out containers of food until the whole table was covered. Then Lance wheeled his father outside. His mother carried two kitchen chairs out as well and set them on either side of his father. They finally sat down.

“Alright,” his mother said, taking his father’s hand and offering her other one to Lance. “Ready?”

“Yup,” he said, taking his mother’s hand and grasping his father’s.

She said grace over the food and then began passing out plates. His mother filled up a plate for his father and sliced the chicken up into smaller pieces.

“Have you heard anything from the others?” Lance said.

She shook her head. “Not yet. But I’m sure they’ll get around to it,”

Lance sighed. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a meal together,”

“I know, mijo,” she said. “But I’m so happy we could be together today. If I all I can have are my two favorite boys, then that’s enough for me,”

Lance smiled. “So…you admit I’m your favorite,”

She gasped, and Lance laughed. They began to eat.

He and his mother took turns helping his father to eat. The sun was bright and high in the sky and the birds were chirping. The day was almost perfect.

But suddenly, his father grunted and gestured toward something straight ahead. Lance looked up from his food just as a taxi van pulled up to their house. It stopped just outside their fence.

“Who’s that?” Lance said.

“I don’t know,”

Lance began to stand up but froze as the van began to empty.

He watched as his older brother Marco stepped out. He grinned and began trotting toward them.

“Mama!”

His mother nearly choked. “Marco!” she cried, scrambling up to meet him half way. 

His wife Lauren came out just behind him, followed by their two children, his brother Luis and his wife Maria. They each hugged their mother, wishing her a happy Easter, gushing about how it was so great to see her. Lance couldn’t register the scene in front of him until his brothers yanking him out of his seat broke him from his trance. They hugged him and mussed up his hair and commented on how big he’d gotten, and he almost felt like he was in a dream.

Then they came to their father. Marco knelt before him and took his hand. Luis bent down and hugged him. Their father smiled and laughed with them both, patting Luis’s arms and squeezing Marco’s hand.

Lance almost got the wind knocked out of him as his niece and nephew tackled him, squeezing him in a double bear hug. He laughed as they chattered beneath him, tugging on his hands and screaming their delight. His brothers’ wives each hugged him as well and then walked over to his father, taking the kids with them.

Marco turned and took the kids’ hands and held them in front of Papa.

“Sadie, Alex, you remember grandpa,” he said.

Alex waved excitedly while little Sadie seemed apprehensive. Papa smiled, opening his arms for a hug. The kids immediately climbed up into his lap.

Lance walked over and stood next to Luis. “God, I can’t believe you guys are here,”

“Yeah, after we heard what happened to Pops, we wanted to make sure we came down for the holiday,”

“Wow,” Lance breathed. “Hey, have you…heard from Nikki?”

Luis’s smile fell a bit. “Yeah,” he said cautiously, then dropped his voice. “Has she told you? About her…”

Lance inhaled. “Yeah, yeah.”

Luis looked relieved. “Okay, good!” 

They turned, watching the children talk excitedly to grandpa.

Lance sighed. “I guess she couldn’t make it,”

Luis tilted his head. “Actually—”

But then suddenly they were interrupted by a choked yelp from their mother. Everyone turned to see what she was looking at.

Another taxi had pulled up where the other one had left. Out stepped a young woman with dark skin and long dreads. Lance immediately recognized her. 

Then behind her stepped another young woman, her curly hair blowing in the wind, her brown eyes trained on them.

“Veronica!” his father cried, his voice strained.

She turned away, helping Makeda pull their suitcases from the car. Lance gawked at her, unable to believe she was here. And she brought Makeda!

The taxi drove off and the two women stood with their luggage just outside the gate. Veronica seemed to square her shoulders before slowly walking toward them. His mother started walking too, ambling toward them with her eyes wide and glassy. Makeda hung back while Veronica met her mother halfway. They stopped just a couple feet away from each other.

Veronica set her bags down and stepped forward. She looked down at her mother with a stony expression. She sighed.

“Hello, Mama,”

Silence. Everyone was still, even the children. Lance felt himself holding his breath.

Then slowly, his mother stepped forward as well and wrapped Veronica in a tight hug. Veronica’s eyes went wide as she stood in her mother’s embrace. Then a moment later, she wrapped her arms around her mother too, and she buried her face in her shoulder.

Everyone unfroze. They marveled at the scene in front of them. Suddenly Lance was halfway toward them before he realized his feet had started moving. He stopped a few feet away.

Veronica and her mother parted, her mother wiping tears from Veronica’s face. They smiled at each other. 

Then Veronica shifted her gaze and her smile grew devilish as she moved toward Lance. They hugged, and Lance felt more of the iciness melt away. His eyes pricked, and he squeezed her closer to his body.

“Hey, lover boy,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Hey to you too. God, you smell like airport,”

She breathed out a laugh and pulled away, wiping her face.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said.

She nodded, more tears falling. “It’s so good to see you too,”

He squeezed her arm.

She smiled at him for a moment before turning back toward Makeda. Makeda set her bags down and walked toward them.

“Mama,” Veronica said, taking Makeda’s hand. “This is Makeda. She’s…my fiancée,”

Lance stood next to his mother and reached around to shake Makeda’s hand. “It’s good to see you,” he said. Then he turned and looked at his mother expectantly. She stood, mouth agape, staring at Makeda. Lance nudged her, and she glared at him. Finally, she gently took Makeda’s hand and squeezed it.

“It’s…so nice to meet you,”

Makeda looked relieved and clasped both hands around their mother’s. “It’s so nice to meet you too, Mrs. McClain,”

She smiled, her face a bit strained. “Would you…like to meet the rest of the family?”

“Yes, I would like that a lot,” Makeda said, beaming. 

Their mother turned and led them back to where the rest of the family stood. One by one, Veronica hugged each person and introduced Makeda to them. The children hopped down from grandpa’s lap and clambered to hug Veronica, jumping and shouting around Makeda as well.

Finally, Veronica moved past them and stood before their father. They all went quiet again, Marco’s wife wrangling the children and Makeda hanging back once more. Everything went still.

“Papa,” Veronica said. 

He looked up at her, his brows furrowed.

“It’s me, Papa. And, I’ve brought someone with me,”

She motioned for Makeda to join her, taking her hand as she stood next to her.

“Papa, this is Makeda. And I love her. And we’re getting married,”

Everything was silent. It was like the whole world was holding its breath. Only the slight howling of the wind was audible. Not even the birds dared to chirp. 

Papa sat there, eyeing both of them. He was quiet for a very long time. Lance stood a little ways back, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, anxious for what was about to come.

And then…

His father slowly lifted his hand. His arm shook, and he grunted with the effort. He held it out to her.

“My…princess…” he rumbled.

Veronica let out her breath. She let go of Makeda’s hand and collapsed onto her father, wrapping her arms around him. He held her too, patting her back and swaying back and forth. 

Everyone began clapping and Lance felt his hands move mechanically. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the scene in front of him.

Veronica finally pulled away and then gestured toward Makeda. She came closer and knelt down in front of their father.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, sir,” she said, beginning to choke up.

He smiled. “Makeda…” he breathed. “Good…to meet you…too,” and he squeezed her hand.

Luis and Marco went to go take the rest of the luggage into the house. Their wives brought the children back over to grandpa and they all stood talking to Veronica and Makeda.  
Lance’s mother leaned against him, letting her head lay against his shoulder. She reached down and squeezed his hand. Lance’s heart swelled. He didn’t know if the day could get any more perfect.

 

Later, after the luggage was taken into the house and more chairs were pulled outside, everyone began to eat. 

Marco and Luis asked Veronica about what she’d been up to. Their mother, Lauren, Maria, and Makeda all chatted animatedly. Lance helped Sadie and Alex cut up their food. He looked around at everyone talking and laughing. The food was delicious, and the afternoon sun was warm on their faces. He sighed in contentment.

He caught his mother smiling at him. He smiled back.

Everything was almost perfect.

Almost…

“Tio Lance, who’s that?” Alex said.

“Who bud?” he said, turning to where he was pointing.

Yet another taxi had pulled up in front of their house. Everyone turned to look as well. Lance’s heart began to hammer in his chest. Could it be…?

A man, tall with broad shoulders and pale skin stepped out of the taxi. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and began walking toward them.

Lance stood up. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

The man stopped just inside the gate. His stark white hair shone in the sunlight and one of the arms of his leather jacket was folded inside. He hesitated.

“Hello,” he said, his voice kind yet booming. “I’m looking for someone named Keith Kogane?”

Lance slowly walked toward him, barely registering everyone else beginning to stand as well.

“I’m sorry to bother you. I haven’t been able to get a hold of him and this is the last place he told me he was,”

“And you are?” his mother called.

“I’m his brother—”

“Shiro,” Lance breathed. 

The man’s eyes fell on Lance and he looked at him curiously. “Yeah. Takashi Shirogane, to be exact. Are you friend of Keith’s?”

Lance gulped. “Something like that,”

Shiro smiled warmly and stepped closer to him, offering his hand. “Well it’s good to meet you, uhh…”

Lance stared at the hand in bewilderment. He set his jaw and grasped it. “Lance. Lance McClain,”

“Lance. Always nice to meet a friend of Keith’s,”

Lance nodded, suddenly feeling awkward.

Lance’s mom walked up to them. “Well, Mr. Shirogane, Keith is no longer here.”

Shiro’s face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad,”

“Yes, but you must be tired, come join us for dinner,”

“That’s really kind of you, Mrs. McClain, but I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,”

She waved him off. “Nonsense! Please, come and sit down. There’s enough for everyone,”

She led the way back to the table and Shiro shook hands with the rest of them. Marco stood up and offered him his chair. Shiro graciously took it, and Marco went around and took Sadie’s, sitting her on his lap.

Their mother fixed up a plate and Veronica poured him a beverage and they all doted on him, offering him napkins and asking if he needed anything else. Slightly overwhelmed, he assured everyone he was fine and finally began to eat.

Lance sat down himself, a bit of disappointment weighing him down. He picked up his fork and continued to eat.

Suddenly Alex pointed his fork at Shiro. “Mr., what happened to your arm?”

“Alex!” Lauren hissed.

Shiro chuckled. “No, it’s okay! You see, I lost it to shark,”

Alex’s eyes bugged out. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” Shiro said. “But you should see him,”

Alex and Sadie giggled.

Veronica turned to him. “Is that really what happened?” She whispered.

Shiro’s smile fell a bit and he thought for a moment. “Heh, no actually. It happened while I was deployed,”

“You in the army?” Luis asked.

“Airforce, actually,”

“What happened? If you don’t mind telling,” Maria added.

Shiro looked around at all the eager faces. He smiled sheepishly. “It’s…kind of a sad story. And, it might not be very appropriate for kids,” 

Marco and Lauren sent the kids inside to play and Makeda went with them. 

As they walked away, Shiro took a deep breath. He began his story, speaking slowly and deliberately. “Well, like I said I was doing a tour, but one night I was off. Me and a couple of my buddies went out to grab a drink. I stepped out with one of them to get some fresh air. Then next thing I know I’m being bound and taken into a truck,”

“You were captured?” Veronica said.

“Yes. And…they did this to me. I was gone for a long time,”

“That’s awful,” their mother said.

“Yes it was. But it’s alright now. I was eventually found and was able to return home to the states,”

“Why would they even go after you like that? For information?” Maria said.

Shiro scratched the back of his head, looking down. “Well, I think it was because of something else. I think they saw me and the guy I was with together, and they didn’t like it,”

“Why wouldn’t they like that?” Luis said.

Shiro looked around the table, searching their faces. His gaze fell on Lance. Lance felt his heart beat faster and he nervously bit his lip. 

“Well, the guy and I were sort of…together. As in together, together,”

Veronica sat forward in her seat. Sounds of collective understanding resounded from the group. Lance glanced nervously at his parents. They listened, his mother covering her mouth with kind, sad eyes.

Marco spoke up. “This guy, he was your…?”

“Fiancé,” Shiro finished. “Adam and I were engaged,”

“Ohh,” Marco said, and so did everyone else.

Veronica reached over and grabbed his hand. “That’s horrible,”

Shiro squeezed her hand. “Yes, it was. I was able to get Adam to escape but…I wasn’t so lucky,”

Luis patted his shoulder. “Well, we appreciate your sacrifice soldier,” he said, and they all agreed.

Their father grunted suddenly, and they all turned to him. He held up his drink, the cup shivering in his hand. 

“Cheers,” he said.

They all lifted their own drinks and toasted with them.

Lance was slow to lift his. His mind was still reeling from this discovery. He stared at this man for a long time while everyone thanked him and clinked their drinks with his. Shiro graciously took their praise, toasting to them and then taking a sip.

Once again, his gaze fell on Lance. Lance sat frozen in his seat. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. His world felt slightly shifted. He gulped and finally looked down, hunching over his food. He picked up his fork and bit off a small piece of food. Everyone chattered around him while he ate in silence.

 

They talked and ate well into the evening and the sky began to darken. Makeda came out with the kids and they brought out candles for the table. Lauren and Maria helped their mother put some of the food away, and Veronica laid a blanket over her father’s lap. 

Everything was beginning to wind down and Lance sat quietly in his seat. 

Suddenly a whistle came from the house and everyone looked back to see who it was.

“Hey, settle down everyone,” Marco said. Everyone rushed to return to their seats. “In honor of our new guest, I thought it’d be nice if we had a little entertainment with our meal,” Then he held out the guitar that was in Lance’s room.

Lance blinked, gaping at his brother. Marco Handed the guitar to him.

“Lance, if you’re up for it,”

Everyone began to egg him on, encouraging him to play. 

Lance rolled his eyes jokingly and positioned the guitar in his hands. “I guess, since I’m the only one who can actually play,”

They laughed, and he chuckled, setting his fingers on the strings. He looked around at all of them before letting his gaze fall on his mother. He smiled at her and she beamed. He then looked at his father who nodded. 

He took a deep breath. “Before I play, I just wanted to say I’m really happy to have you all here. It’s been so long since we’ve sat down and eaten a meal. Together. This day…well, this day was perfect,”

And then he began to play.

His fingers plucked the melody of their own volition, the notes rolling out in long, sensual waves. The song was lilting, haunting, but all too familiar to him. He looked out at the smiling faces around him, everyone quietly listening. He closed his eyes and began to sing.

He knew the words by heart. His voice was quiet, breathy, but slowly grew louder and louder as he sang through the first verse. His eyes were closed, and he could feel the others’ gaze on him. But all he could see was Him.

He wailed the lyrics and he imagined Him sitting in front of him watching him play. He could see His eyes gaze at him in wonder, hear His breath catch as the words looped around. They took on a whole new meaning as he felt himself get transported back into the kitchen, sitting alone with Him, empty plates and cold tea in front of them, the smell of sheep cheese wafting through the air.

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a single tear drop from his cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut harder, his voice loud, his heart forlorn. He’d meant it when he said the day was perfect, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He let the tears fall, and it was like a valve had been opened. They flowed down in a constant stream, rolling down his face and dripping onto his fingers. He felt dizzy from the release.

He finished the song with a swirl of notes and then he let his fingers rest on the strings.

He sat for a moment. Then he opened his eyes.

He shrunk back as he saw everyone’s face and their wet eyes.

“That was lovely, mijo,” his mother murmured, wiping her tears.

“Wow,” Shiro said. “You’re really talented. What song was that?”

Lance wiped his eyes and looked away.

His mother smiled, clasping one of his father’s hands in both of hers. “That was a love song. My husband wrote it for me many years ago,” she answered. And then kissed his father’s cheek.

Everyone leaned on their respective partners, sighing in loving contentment. Everyone except Lance and Shiro. Shiro gave Lance a sad smile. Lance frowned and set the guitar down beside him.

 

The sky slowly turned to an inky black and everyone began helping to carry the table and chairs back into the house. After taking in a couple chairs, Lance walked back outside, passing people is they carried things in. He stood just outside the front door, watching his father who sat a little ways away in the darkness. He clasped his hands together and sauntered over to him.

“Hey, Papa,” he said. “want me to take you inside now?”

His father reached up and touched his hands just as he was grabbing the handle bars.

“Stay…a while,” he grunted, then let his hand fall back into his lap.

Lance sighed and leaned on the back of the chair. “Okay…no problem,”

He stood behind his father staring out into the darkness. The sky above them was teeming with twinkling lights, and the moon was big and bright.

“Stars…” he heard his father whisper.

“Yeah…I see them too,”

His father grumbled. “…beautiful,”

“Yeah…they really are,”

“Mmm…’member…used to…see them…” he said, with great effort. “…together?”

Lance pursed his lips. He looked back at the house where light spilled out from the windows and people chattered happily, moving about. He turned back to face the darkness. He sighed again. “Yeah. That was a long time ago,”

“Hm.” His father huffed. “Before…I…got sick…”

“Yeah. Hey,” Lance said, swallowing hard. “Are you sure you don’t want to go inside now? It’s getting pretty chilly out here,”

His father shifted in his chair to look up at Lance. “You…upset?”

“No! No,” Lance cried, standing and walking in front of his father. “I’m not—I’m not upset, Papa,”

“Yes you ‘re,” he said.

Lance scoffed. “I—we should go back inside,”

“No,”

Lance stepped forward and reached for the chair anyway. His father grabbed his wrist. Surprised, Lance stared down at his father who glared up into his eyes. He shuddered, paralyzed for a moment.

Finally, he looked away, pressing his lips together. “Okay…I’m upset—”

“’Cause ‘m like this,” he said.

“No! Papa, I’m not upset because you’re like this—I mean I am upset that—”

He struggled to find the words. His father’s gaze remained rock solid. Lance took a deep breath.

“I’m upset that this happened to you,” he declared. “Why are we talking about this?”

His father growled and finally let his wrist go. Lance let it fall to his side.

“Can we go back inside now?”

His father’s head tilted to the side and he grasped his arm rests with a firm grip. “You’re…upset…I can’t…work,”

Lance shook his head. “No, I mean, it’s not just that—”

“What?” his father barked.

Lance threw his hands out in frustration. “I’m not just upset this happened to you because you can’t work. I’m not just some lazy bum who doesn’t want to do the work himself—”

“I know!” His father roared. “…you’re not…lazy,”

Lance blinked. Then he put a hand on his hip and dragged the other down his face. “I’m upset because…well…” and he lowered his gaze. “You’re my dad,”

His father stayed silent beneath him. Lance shifted his weight to his other foot.

“You’re right, we did used to come out and look at the stars all the time. But then I got older. And you and Veronica started to fight. And then Nana and Pops died. And I don’t know, dad, but something changed,”

He looked at his dad with a newfound earnestness. His dad looked back, his gaze steady.

“You changed after that dad. It was like you closed yourself off. Then you left to come here, and I guess that was it. No more stars,”

His father shifted in his seat again but said nothing. Lance felt the beginnings of a torrent of emotions starting to flow and he didn’t have the strength anymore to stop it.

“What happened dad? Why didn’t you want to see the stars anymore?”

His father’s silence fueled the flood and he struggled to keep his voice down.

“I mean you were gone for so long, you and Ma. Then I came here with you…and it was like you were still gone,”

“You…you regret…coming?”

Lance felt his skin growing cold, but the emotions building up inside were already starting to spill out. “No,” he said his voice shaking. “No, I don’t regret coming here. I never have, and I never will—why would you think that? I wanted to come here, I wanted to be here for you guys. I wanted to help, and I knew I could, so I did.

“But if we’re really riding this truth train, then I’ll say yes…” he continued, looking away and blinking rapidly. “yes…I do sometimes wish I’d been able to go to college. I mean of course I do, that was my dream! And I miss my friends and my siblings and my life back in the states. I miss all that.

“But you guys are my parents. And I love you so much, Papa, I really do. I hate that this happened to you, and that you’ve had to go all through this. And then even before this, both your parents died, and you had to come to this place you haven’t been to in so long and work really hard and you probably haven’t been able to really grieve their loss and I—”

By then, Lance’s voice was thick with tears and they streamed freely down his face. His voice caught in his throat and he stood with his mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out.

“I get it, Papa,” he whispered finally. “I get it, and I want to work hard for you. I want to work hard like you, or like you used to. You were always so hardworking, and all I ever wanted was to be like you,”

He let his eyes fall to the ground. The tears blurred his vision and dripped down onto his shirt. He stood before his father, weeping silently, a small breeze wafting through. He felt raw and empty, like all that had been inside him had been flushed it and he was left hollow. He sniffled.

“Lance,” he heard his father grunt and he looked up slightly. His father raised a hand and beckoned him to come closer. He scrubbed at his eyes and stepped forward.

“Lance,” his father breathed again, “Don’t…be like…me,”

Lance furrowed his brows. “What?” he murmured.

His father shook his head. “Life…is too short…for work,” he said, then reached out toward Lance. Lance couldn’t believe his ears and placed his hand in his father’s as if in a daze.

“You’re…a good…boy…and I…” his father’s jaw shook, and his eyes became glassy. “I’m…sorry,”

Lance dropped into a squat and searched his father’s eyes. His heart began to swell, and his eyes leaked continuously as he knelt down before his father. He thought he’d never hear words like that ever again, and he screwed his eyes shut, taking his father’s hand in both of his and pressing it to his forehead.

“Thank you, Papa,” he murmured, voice choked. “I love you,”

He felt his father’s hand slip out of his and he looked up just as his father slowly leaned forward. His body was stiff, and his arms trembled. He placed his hands gently on either side of Lance’s face and pressed his lips to his forehead. Lance let him do it, completely astounded by what was happening.

His father broke away and whispered into his hair, “I…love you too…mijo. Please…seek…happiness…in life.” Then he sat back in his chair, patting Lance’s cheek.

Lance gawked at his father for another moment. Then he rose, wiping his eyes and squeezing his father’s shoulder, and stood behind his wheelchair.

They stared up into the sky, admiring the dots of light all over. It was so bright it was easy to see in the darkness. The moon washed them in a milky glow and the wind blew across Lance’s face and through his hair. He closed his eyes and sighed, for the first time in a long time at peace.

 

Once everyone was upstairs, comfortably occupying all the spare rooms, Lance crept down the stairs one last time to say goodnight to his mother. He found her sitting at the kitchen table with Veronica having tea and chatting quietly. He came up behind her and pressed a kiss to the side of her face.

“Good night, Mama,” he said.

“Oh! Wait, Lance,” she said, reaching over to the chair beside her. “Give these sheets and things to Shiro, he’s staying in the RV,”

Lance groaned but took the bundle of linen in his arms. “Yeah, no problem,”

“Thank you. Oh, and Lance?”

He stopped, half-way turning toward the door. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Have you talked to Papa tonight?” she asked, handing him the piece of paper.

He shifted the bundle to one arm and took the piece of paper. He eyed Veronica, looking for help but she looked away sipping her tea.

“Yeah, I did. It was…something,”

She smiled.

“What’s this?” he said, lifting the note.

She lifted an eyebrow, turning to Veronica who snickered into her cup. “That’s the address and phone number of the place Keith went to work for,”

His eyes bugged out and his mouth fell open. Blood rushed to his face and his cheeks burned. His heart skipped a beat and he gulped.

Veronica snickered again and he shot daggers at her with his eyes. She only laughed louder.

“Ma, I—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” she said, raising a hand to silence him. “I said I wanted you to be happy, mijo,”

He stared at her for a while before looking at the little note in his hand, the small neat calligraphy looping all over it. 

She smiled kindly and folded his hand around the note. “Go. Seek happiness,” she said, patting his hand.

He looked up at her, his breath shaky. He looked down at his fist, mulling it over in his mind. Then, darting his eyes at Veronica one last time, he quickly stuffed the piece of paper in his pocket. He turned on his heels and stomped out the door.

“We’ll talk later, lover boy!” he heard Veronica call after him and he groaned.

He walked briskly toward the RV where he spotted Shiro just opening the screen door.

“Shiro!” He called, breaking into a trot. Shiro stopped and looked up, then waved as Lance came before him.

Lance handed Shiro the fresh clean bedding. “Here you go. Hope this is okay,”

“This is great. I really appreciate it,”

Lance nodded, pursing his lips. He waved and then turned to walk away.

“So,” Shiro said. “You a friend of Keith’s, huh?”

Lance froze. He looked back at Shiro. Shiro gave him a knowing smile.

Lance awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Yeah…something like that,”

Shiro chuckled, then turned to head into the RV.

“Oh, one more thing,” Lance said. “What ever happened to Adam?”

Shiro turned back to him and shrugged. “He’s still on active duty, but he’ll be coming back when summer starts,”

“Ah,” Lance said, nodding.

“But I gotta say, it gets pretty lonely when you’re not with your special person. Know what I mean?”

Lance took a deep breath. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean,” he said.

Shiro smiled. “Well, good night, Lance. I’ll see you in the morning,”

“Good night, Shiro,” Lance replied, then turned and headed back into the house.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patience yields focus

Keith sat frozen in his seat, mouth agape. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the armrests of his chair.

The woman sighed, smoothing back her already smooth hair. “My name is Krolia. I came here about a year after you were born and have been here ever since. I know this must be…difficult for you—”

“You’re my mom?” Keith shouted, his voice cracking. “H-how? How are you so sure? How did you meet my dad? Where did you come from? Why did you leave? Why should I trust you?”

She raised her hands in caution. “Hey, hey! I know you have a lot of questions, and I am going to answer them—”

“Damn right! You’re answering them here. Right now. Go,”

She opened her mouth, but her words choked in her throat. She clenched her teeth and dropped her hands, folding them onto the table. She glowered down at the desk for a moment, then stood and stared out the large window.

“Alright,” she said finally. “You deserve to know. I…am a member of an old Celtic family. This knife, and others like it, go back many centuries.”

“There are more like it?”

She nodded. “Yes. In ancient times, there were several family groups that lived amongst each other and hunted on the land. The groups often warred and after many gruesome battles, only two families remained. My family was one of them and these knives are a symbol of our heritage.

“Throughout the ages, Ireland became settled, but the two families survived as sworn enemies. In the early twentieth century, the antagonism evolved into a feud between two mobs as both families took up that kind of work around the same time.

“Fast forward to twenty years ago. I was working in Texas, planning to take over the family business. That’s when I met your father.

“I was out one night doing a job. We were just going to shake up a guy who owed us money. Turned out to be a set up and people from the rival family ambushed us. I had gotten shot in the leg and stabbed a couple times, but I was barely able to escape into the desert. I wandered around lost for a while, having no money, no car, and no way to contact anyone to help me.

“I collapsed on the ground in the middle of the night and passed out. The next morning, I woke up in a strange bed in a strange house. It was your father’s. He’d found me, and he nursed me back to health.” 

Keith sat still in his chair, totally rapt in the story. He barely breathed as he listened intently, drinking in her every word.

“I stayed with him for a long time Keith. And after the whole fiasco that almost took my life, I didn’t know if wanted to continue with that work anymore. Your father showed me an alternative, a different, simpler option. He was so kind to me Keith, and he made me so happy. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

“One day we found out I was pregnant and I thought maybe that was my chance. So, we had you. And we loved you Keith,” she said looking up at him staring deep into his eyes. Her eyes were the same stormy gray as his and he gulped.

“But,” she said, her voice growing quiet. “It couldn’t last. They found me and tried to force me to comeback. I refused. But you can’t refuse the mob, Keith. Never.

“There were two attacks. First, they broke every window on the first floor. Then, they put a bomb in your dad’s car. He barely escaped that time and was badly injured. I didn’t want to wait for a third attempt.”

Keith pursed his lips, furrowing his brow. He glared down at his lap. “So…you left to escape the mob and your crazy family?”

She turned to him, frowning, and shook her head slowly. “No, Keith. I knew they didn’t know about you and they probably thought your father died in the car bomb. I wanted to lead them away from you and have them come after me. I wanted to protect the thing I most treasured…you,”

Keith gazed at her with wide eyes. She gazed back, her eyes steady, her posture straight, her expression grave.

“So, I left. I led them on a wild goose chase before hiding out down here. I hoped one day you would find me and we could be reunited. That’s why I left you my knife.”

Keith squeezed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists. He took a deep breath, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I get it, Krolia. I understand why you may have wanted to leave. But…you don’t know how much your leaving impacted my life.”

“I did what I needed to do to protect you. I wanted to give you a chance at a good life, a life without struggle, a simple life. And I wanted to do it, by any means necessary,”

He felt his hackles rise and he growled. “Well…you failed,”

Her eyes flashed, and her expression turned to that of hurt. She stepped toward him. “Keith…I was trying to do the right thing,”

“By leaving my dad by himself?” he yelled. He kept his gaze on the ground, away from her.

“I knew I could trust him to raise you right—”

“I don’t believe you! I have no reason to trust you. You’re so full of shit. You didn’t even come to his funeral!”

“His what?” she shrieked.

Keith whipped his head back around to look at her. Her eyes were wide, and her skin had gone pale. Concerned, he eyed her from the side as he leaned away.

“His…funeral,” he repeated.

It was like a bomb had gone off inside her and she was petrified in a state of shock. She gawked at him, her hand half raised to her mouth, her eyes looking but not seeing. Keith watched as she slowly crumbled. Her knees buckled, and she braced herself on the window sill. Her gaze fell, and her eyes became glassy.

“No,” she breathed, a single tear running down her cheek.

Keith was horrified, unable to move from his place in his chair. All he could do was watch as she started to break down.

She gasped for breath and all her stoicism completely fell away. She covered her face with both hands and her body began to tremble.

Keith watched her for a few more moments before carefully standing up from his seat. He crept toward her, arms outstretched, cautious as if she were a wild animal.

“Hey,” he said. “It’s…okay,”

She gasped again and uncovered her face. Her eyes were filled with despair. “How long ago?”

Keith was taken aback. “A long time. A little over a decade ago,”

She combed her fingers through her hair, unleashing some strands from her ponytail. Her eyes and cheeks became very red and her breath was shaky. Keith stood with his arms still open but very hesitant.

“Did they get him?” she said, her voice high, “My family?”

He shook his head. “No…it was a fire. He was responding to it.”

She closed her eyes, still bracing herself against the window. Her reaction began to stir feelings in Keith that had been dormant for a long time. Suddenly, his eyes began to prick, and he was very surprised to feel a tear fall before he could even move to stop it.

She gasped once more, hugging herself. She seemed smaller, fragile like a leaf quivering in the wind, no longer the austere figure from a few moments ago. 

“Keith,” she said finally. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to protect you from all the bad things in the world. I wanted you to be happy. But you’re right…I failed you,”

“Krolia…” Keith murmured. The fire that had burned inside him had been extinguished and he felt cold and hollow. Slightly dazed, he drew closer to her, opening his arms, and slowly embracing her. His touch was light, barely there. She unwrapped her arms from around her waist and hugged him back. He felt the warm of her body press into his and left as soft glow in his core.

“You…you really loved him, didn’t you,”

She nodded against his shoulder. “But I love you Keith. A thousand times more. So much that I gave you up in the hopes that you could have a better life,”

Keith shuddered beneath her and more tears fell.

Krolia sniffled. “You don’t have to forgive me Keith. I understand if you don’t. But please know everything I did was for you…especially my mistakes,”

She pulled away and held his face between her hands smiling at him.

“My love,” she murmured, smoothing back his bangs. “My boy,” then she embraced him again.

Keith allowed himself to be held, standing very still with Krolia in his arms. More tears streamed down his face and he let them, lacking the energy to make them stop. He didn’t even have the urge to run like he usually did. He just stood there in the tepid office with the fluorescent light bathing them in green tinged glow. He closed his eyes feeling the beginnings of something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, so long he’d almost forgot it: whole.

 

 

Lance kept his eyes trained on the road, his hands set firmly at ten and two, slight tension between his brows. He glanced at Shiro who watched the landscape pass by through the window. They rode in silence.

He gripped the steering wheel, trying to keep his mind from wandering. His heart drilled in his chest with anticipation. He glanced at Shiro once more and then cleared his throat.

“So,” he began, “uh…”

Shiro turned in his seat to face him. His expression was kind. “So…what’s the plan?”

Lance thought for a moment. “I don’t really know…”

Shiro nodded. “Well, it’s definitely worth something that you’re coming to find him. He won’t be expecting it,”

Lance shook his head. “Yeah, but will he even want to see me? After what I did? I mean, I was drunk but that’s not really an excuse,”

“Well, I will say he’s not really the best at forgiveness. One time I was late picking him up after school and he didn’t speak to me for a whole week. He just left notes for Adam to give to me when he wanted something,”

Lance snickered and Shiro smiled.

“But to be perfectly honest, Lance, this probably won’t be easy. Are you sure it’s worth it?”

Lance let his smile fall as he stared at the open road. He looked at Shiro, then nodded.

Shiro smiled and patted Lance’s shoulder.

“I know I messed up, and he might be slow to forgive. But I have to do this. I have to at least apologize. And I don’t know if it’ll be enough…but I have to at least try,”

Shiro smiled. He gazed at the side of Lance’s face, lost in thought before turning to stare out the window. Once again, they fell back into silence.

 

Lance pulled the truck up to a wire fence with a sign that read “Marmora Steel.” Lance hopped out and tried the gate, which was luckily unlocked. He turned back to the truck. 

“Wait here,” he said.

“What? Why? He’s my brother,”

“I want to talk to him alone, so there’s no pressure. We’ll come back for you later. Hopefully things will go well and then he’ll have the added benefit of seeing you,”

Shiro sighed. “Alright. But if you’re not out soon enough I’m coming in,”

Lance gave him a thumbs-up then turned back toward the gate. He took a deep breath, then pushed through.

Lance walked briskly across the steel yard, peaking around stacks of metal cylinders and then ducking behind large bins. The dark building loomed over him, an ink blot against the bright sky, large puffs of smoke being pumped out behind it. His heart raced, and his palms were sweaty, and he struggled to keep his mind focused.

He saw some workers around the bend and he called out to them.

“Hey! Do you guys know of someone named Keith? Keith Kogane?”

They said no and moved away. Lance groaned. He didn’t even know where to start. He ran up to one of the windows of the building, but it was too high. He backed up and stood on his tippy toes, trying to see inside. He could barely glimpse the tops of machines as well as a room looking over them. A woman sat at a desk inside.

He ducked down below the window and looked around. He saw an entrance and trotted over. He tugged on the knob—locked with a key card sensor. He put his hands on his hips and cursed under his breath. He turned around; there was no one in sight. 

He leaned against the wall beside the door and slid down to the ground. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. He sighed and dropped his hand in his lap. He had no idea when Keith got off or if he was even in. He let his head fall back against the wall and looked up at the sky.

It had taken him several hours to drive there. He tried calling Keith’s phone earlier but found that it was dead. He pulled the little piece of paper out of his pocket and looked again. He considered calling the phone number written on it. 

He picked up his cell again, dialed the number but then hesitated. What would he say? What if they got suspicious? What if they didn’t let him in? Or what if Keith refused to see him?

He shook his head and took a deep breath. He pressed dial before he lost his nerve and listened to the dial tone with baited breath.

A woman picked up after two rings. “Marmora Steel, this is Krolia,”

“Uh,” he choked. “Yeah, uh I just wanted to know…is Keith in? K-Keith Kogane?”

“Who may I ask is speaking?”

“Uh…” he started to panic suddenly and sweat beaded on his forehead. “My name is—”

“Lance?” a voice said suddenly. Lance jumped and looked to the side.

A figure loomed over him casting a shadow over his legs. His long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and his jumpsuit was zipped part way down, exposing a white t-shirt.

It was Keith. He’d found him.

Lance barely registered the voice on the other side of the line which continued to speak. He scrambled to his feet. He mumbled an apology into the speaker and promptly hung up. Keith looked more surprised than upset and Lance thanked the heavens. He tried a smile.

“Keith!” he gasped.

Keith eyed him. “What are you doing here?”

Lance gulped. “Oh, you know…just in the neighborhood,”

“In the neighborhood?” Keith repeated.

Lance scratched the back of his head. “Well, no. I mean, I just thought I’d—I mean…I thought I’d come see you,”

“For what?”

“Oh, you know…” he said, laughing nervously, “just…’cause,”

Keith set his jaw and crossed his arms. “Well…you see me. Now what?”

“Right,” Lance said. “well, how’ve you been, man? It’s a real scorcher today, isn’t it?”

“You came all the way here to talk about the weather?”

“No,” Lance said, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing himself. Finally, he took a deep breath. “Keith…I know I messed up. I know that I hurt you. And it’s really fucked up because…you were so good to me. You were there for me when everything was falling apart, and you took care of me.”

Keith stood quietly as he listened to Lance speak. The initial shock had worn off and he just watched him. He never thought he’d see him again or hear his voice. It lifted his soul but threatened to break his heart. He worked to keep a straight face.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before. You showed me so much and made me feel so many things I’d never felt before. It was like you awakened me from a deep stupor. And now...”

He bit his lip, blinking back tears that suddenly threatened to trickle down.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thickening. “I’m so sorry. I really fucked up. But I miss you Keith. I’ve missed you…so much,”

Keith glared at him, his own tears threatening to spill. “Okay. So what, you want me to come back and work for your family or something? So you can have—what was it? A place to stay, good food, and a good fuck?”

Lance closed his eyes. He silently cursed himself again. “No, I don’t want that,”

“Then what do you want, Lance?” Keith yelled.

Lance let a single tear fall down his cheek. “I want you,”

Keith rolled his eyes and stepped away. He shook his head.

“I want you,” he said again with more conviction. “I want us to be together. I know you work here now, so…I don’t know, I could come up here and visit you! I would bring you food from my mom and we can just be together! I could wait for you to get off, a-and we could drive out somewhere and look up at the stars, and God I know I’m jumping the gun here—"

Keith’s heart softened as he listened. He wanted to be angrier but slowly his walls began to tumble down. He watched Lance scrub at his eyes and sniffle.

“Keith,” Lance breathed. “You…changed me. You brought me back to a place before my life fell apart. But better, because I was with you. You made me a better person, you made me want to be a better person. And I want to be that for you, Keith. I want to be there for you, and I want to help you find your mom, and I want to take care of you the way you took care of me,”

He sighed. “But…I know you really don’t have to do all that. You were so good to me…and I took you for granted…and I lost you as a result. So you don’t owe me anything. You really don’t even have to forgive me, but…” and he stepped closer to Keith. “Please, Keith. Please forgive me,”

Keith chewed his lip. “What happened to that girl?”

Lance blinked. “Oh! Nothing. She’s an old friend from high school. In fact, all those people you saw were my friends. They were here for spring break but they left after taking me home and I used to have a crush on her, but…” he thought for a moment. “Now I don’t. Not anymore.”

Keith dug his fingers into his arms. “You really hurt me Lance. I trusted you…more than I’ve trusted anyone else before,”

“I know, Keith,” Lance said, and he took another step toward him. “I’m sorry. And I don’t want anyone else but you,”

Keith huffed. “It’s not just that. Even after everything I did for you, you still felt the need to get fucking plastered and do dumb shit instead of come to me. Was what I was doing not enough for you?”

Lance stepped up to him. “It was! It was more than enough! It was everything I could have ever wanted and everything I needed, but I was too stupid and too deep in my own head to realize. I fell back into old habits and I thought I could take you down with me. And you don’t deserve that,

“So I’m sorry Keith. I’ll never do that again,”

“How do I know that?”

Lance squared his shoulders and looked deep into Keith’s eyes. “I’ll show you. I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever you want me to do I’ll do it. I’ll drive here a hundred more times. I’ll help you find your mom. I’ll follow you, I’ll even…” his voice broke, but he forced himself to continue. “I’ll even leave you alone,”

Keith looked at the sky, the bright blue almost blinding him. He dropped his gaze and nodded. He sniffed and crossed his arms harder against his chest. “Okay,”

Lance brightened up. “Okay?”

“Okay, I forgive you,” Keith said.

Lance searched his face, but Keith kept quiet. His face fell. “You forgive me? And…that’s it?”

Keith kept his eyes down. He didn’t speak.

Lance stared at him for a long time. He thought his heart might burst and more tears fell from his eyes. He clenched his hands into fists but soon released them.

He sighed. “Okay. That’s fine. Thanks for everything,” then turned on his heel and walked away.

Keith looked away, scowling at the brick wall. But he felt a pull towards Lance and he indulged himself, peaking up at his diminishing frame. He watched him walk away. He realized then that a light had ignited in his soul when he saw Lance and was now draining away as he left. A single thought flitted through his brain: The only person who can decide who you are and where you’re going is you.

Keith knew who he was. And now he knew where he wanted his life to go. 

He uncrossed his arms and straightened his frame. He took a step toward him. Then another. Then another. He strode after Lance at a clipped pace, which increased to a trot, then a sprint. He barreled toward him, his eyes trained on him and only him.

“Hey!” he called.

Lance stopped and turned back toward him. Keith reached out and grabbed his face, slamming into him. Lance stumbled backward and barely breathed before Keith’s lips came crashing down on his.

Keith kissed him for a long time before breaking finally for air. “I want you, too,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to Lance’s.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith replied, and they kissed again.

This time, it was like life-giving water burst through him and filled him in a torrent of light. Lance felt his whole body heat up from his very core and the chill that had settled into him so long ago had finally lifted. He wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders and pulled him closer to him, relief washing through with an almost painful force. Keith grasped Lance’s back, pressing him into his body.

They broke for air and embraced, panting.

“God, I’m so sorry,” Lance said, hooking his chin over Keith’s shoulder.

“I know,” 

“I missed you,”

“I know,” Keith said, his voice soft as he buried his face in the crook of Lance’s neck. They held each other for a long time, breathing each other in, absorbing the feeling of their bodies pressed together. Keith closed his eyes, sighing with happiness. 

Lance looked up at the sky, the tears freely falling. Inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of Keith’s sweat. He squeezed his arms tighter, pulling Keith in. Keith balled the back of Lance’s shirt in his fists. His breath shook as he exhaled, and he screwed his eyes shut tighter. The feeling of Lance’s body against his made his heart sore.

They stood together for a long time.

The suddenly, Keith heard someone approach. He opened his eyes and pulled away and gasped when he saw who stood behind Lance.

“Shiro?” he cried.

Shiro smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Hey Keith. I take it things went well,”

“W-what are you doing here?”

He motioned to Lance. “I came with him. I tried to call you but your phone was dead and so I came here to look for you. I went to the last place you told me you were. That’s where I met Lance and his family. I guess he and I both really wanted to find you,”

Keith smiled, looking back at Lance and then back at Shiro. Lance smiled too, looking sheepishly at Shiro.

“Sorry, Shiro. Didn’t mean to leave you for so long,”

“Keith?” A voice shouted.

Startled, Keith turned around toward the owner of the voice. He stiffened as he watched Krolia stomp toward them.

“Keith! What are you doing out here? Who are these people?”

“Uh,” he replied. Lance’s face turned to panic. Shiro looked uneasy.

Krolia stopped just in front of him and put her hands on her hips. She eyed all of them suspiciously before turning to Keith. 

“Krolia, this is Shiro, the guy I told you about,” he said, gesturing toward Shiro.

“Hello, my name is Takashi Shirogane,” he said stepping forward and offering his hand.

“Shiro this is Krolia, my…mother,”

Shiro’s eyes widened as Krolia took his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Thank you for raising my son to be the man he is today,”

“Oh! N-no problem!” Shiro said, shaking her hand.

“What?” Lance gasped, his jaw dropping. “This is your mother? You found her?”

Keith smiled and pressed his hand to Lance’s lower back. “And this is Lance. He’s my…” he said, his voice trailing off. They looked at each other, puzzled.

“Boyfriend,” Shiro barked.

Lance looked back toward him, mouth agape.

“Boyfriend,” Keith repeated. “Yeah. He’s my boyfriend,”

“Oh,” Krolia said, then offered her hand to Lance. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,”

Lance awkwardly took her hand. “The pleasure’s all mine, ma’am,”

She smiled at him and then crossed her arms. “Well I wanted to speak to you. I got a call from someone asking for you specifically, and I wanted to see if you knew anything about it,”

“Uh, that was me,” Lance said, scratching the back of his head. 

“Ah. That explains it. Well, I’d like to get to know all of you, so I invite you to step into my office, so we can chat,”

“That sounds great!” Shiro said and stepped up to walk with her back to the building.

Keith and Lance hung back. They faced each other and began to laugh.

“Oh man, I can’t believe you finally got to meet your mom! That’s really cool! And you’re working for her?”

Keith chuckled. “Yeah it’s really something. But, uh…thanks for finding me,”

“Thanks for letting me find you,” Lance replied.

They smiled at each other and took each other’s hand. Then they followed the others inside the building, hand in hand.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short peak into the future

Summer in Cuba. Keith and Lance laid in a heap on the floor in his room letting the fan blow tepid air into their faces.

“Ugh,” Keith groaned for the hundredth time. “It’s so hot,”

“Yeah, I don’t even want to move,” Lance replied.

Keith let his fingers lazily graze against Lance’s skin. The sensation sent delicious shocks up Lance’s spine and he closed his eyes. Keith smirked as watched Lance’s face. 

A knock pounded on the door and someone pushed their way their way in.

“What are you two doing? We were supposed to leave ages ago!” Veronica cried.

Lance and Keith groaned simultaneously. “It’s so hot, Nikki, we don’t really want to go to the beach anymore,”

She scoffed. “Are you kidding? This is the type of heat your supposed to go to the beach in!”

“Are we all set? Oh,” Makeda said as she walked in behind Veronica.

“Ugh, Makeda, tell your wife we’re gonna get heat stroke if we take one step outside,” Lance said.

“You’re so dramatic,” Veronica said, rolling her eyes.

Makeda giggled. “I don’t know, Lance. We only have so much time before you leave for college in August. We should spend as much time together as possible,”

“That’s like a month away!” he cried.

“Well, Keith’s gotta go back to his mom’s tomorrow and we gotta spend the rest of this month packing up the house, so this might be our last chance,” Victoria countered.

Keith sighed. “They’re right, Lance. We should get up. ‘Sides, it’ll be fun,”

Lance gasped. “Keith, the love of my life, betraying me,”

Keith chuckled and patted Lance’s arm. “Come on, let’s go,”

He untangled himself from Lance and stood up, pulling Lance up as he went. Lance groaned loudly, but reluctantly stood, straightening out his clothes. He pulled the surfboards from his closet while Keith picked up the beach bags off the floor. He also picked up the guitar and laughed when Lance gave him a weird look.

“Come on! I missed your little serenades,”

“I serenaded you last night!”

“Yeah, we heard,” Veronica said, and Makeda giggled behind her hand.

Lance waved them off. “Plus, you’ll be getting all the serenades you want when school starts,”

“I know, but you’re so sweet when you sing,”

Makeda cooed at them and made kissing noises from the door while Veronica pretended to retch. Lance rolled his eyes and Keith smiled at him devilishly.

“Fine,” he said, “We can bring it to the beach,”

“Yes! Alright, let’s go,” said Keith, and with that they headed for the door.

Lance stopped Keith as he walked past him, touching his arm.

“You really think I’m sweet?” he murmured.

Keith raised an eyebrow. “You’re not that sweet,”

“Aw!” Lance cried, pouting exaggeratedly.

Keith laughed. “I’m kidding, you’re really sweet,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

And they leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a tender kiss.

“Come on, you two!” Veronica shouted from the hallway.

“Coming!” Lance sang, and Keith laughed. 

Then they turned and walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've gotten this far, thank you so much for reading. You can find me on Tumblr at marcel-lean.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment and you can also find me on tumblr as marcel-lean (a hyphen instead of an underscore).


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